In The Flesh Part 21: Dark Paranormal Romance in Progress. Enjoy!

October 9, 2015Work in Progressdark paranormal romance, In The Flesh serial, work in progressK D Grace

As the situation grows more intense and Annie’s condition deteriorates, in episode 21 of In The Flesh, Michael and Susan help each other.

In the Flesh is very dark paranormal erotica. 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.

To read the story in its entirety up to this point, follow these links to Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20.

In The Flesh Chapter 21

‘It’s not all you want, just for Annie to be okay. You’re bargaining, Susan. In your head you’re bargaining.’ As Michael came and settled beside me on the bed, I could smelled the cold fell air on his skin and the hard muscles of his forearm were cool as he brushed against me. He took Annie’s hand and gently tucked it back under the duvet, then he took mine in his own. ‘You want to go back to be with Him. You think if you go back to Him, he’ll make everything all better because you’re certain that you’re the one he’s been waiting for all these centuries.’

When I tried to pull away, tried to be offended, he held me tight. ‘I know that’s what you want, Susan, because it’s what I want too. It’s what anyone who’s ever been the center of His attention would want, but they’re all dead.’ His words were like an ice bath waking me from a deep sleep with a cold that went clear to the core of me. He continued. ‘They’re all dead because of Him. It’s just the three of us now. And Annie, well no matter what happens, just like you and me, she’ll want that same thing, she’ll want with all of her being to go to Him. Until her dying day that’s what she’ll want, and that day won’t be long in coming if we can’t figure out what to do to imprison the Guardian again.’

I bit my lip and looked down at his large hand folded over mine, his thumb stroking my knuckles in much the way I had Annie’s. ‘Is that why you left the study while Magda was reading? Because you wanted to go to Him?’

He took a deep breath and looked up at me from beneath thick lashes. ‘Partly. Your … account of what happened to you in the crypt, your first encounter with Him, made me think of my first time being in His presence, made me think about what it had cost to be free of Him.’ He suddenly seemed to have trouble breathing, ‘And it made me realize once again that I’m not free of Him. I want to go to Him so badly that it feels like fire burning me up insides, and I’m not likely to ever be free of Him unless Magda can figure something out.’

For a moment we sat in silence. ‘I’m sorry,’ I said at last. ‘I didn’t know when I wrote those things.’ I bit back a sob. ‘I didn’t even remember writing them until Magda started reading, and even then it’s sketchy in places. But I never meant to hurt you. I didn’t even know you.’

‘I didn’t think that you meant to hurt me,’ he said. ‘I wasn’t offended, believe me, I wasn’t. It was
just, well I remembered all over again His way … His way of never letting go of anyone He’s ever touched, and I felt it more strongly in your words than I had since I was the object of His affection, that’s all. Well, that and, I was jealous. I’m always jealous when someone else has His attention. Just like you are. Just like Annie is.’

‘Christ, I’ve made such a mess of things!’ I shoved my way off the bed and paced the perimeter of the room, which was small, almost dungeon-like by comparison to my own. ‘I can’t just sit here and do nothing.’

‘You’re not doing nothing,’ he said watching me pace. ‘You’re working with people who can help. Magda has a plan and you have to trust her.’

‘How can I trust her when she left me in the crypt? And what kind of magic is she working on Annie? How do I know that her solution is not to just kill Annie and be done with it?’

Michael’s jaw tightened beneath the stubble that had grown enough to make him look even more dangerous than he usually did. ‘If she wanted your friend dead, she’d already be dead, not lying here in a clean bed in a safe house.’

‘A safe house? With a vampire and a succubus, and who knows what else? A werewolf or two? Maybe an army of zombies? Fuck, I’m open to anything these days. Good thing the beasties and ghouls are all on our side, isn’t it, Michael?’

‘It is, actually,’ he said in a voice so calm that you’d think I’d just made some benign comment about the weather. Then he added, ‘they all work for Magda. Well, Alonso does, the others work for him. Talia and Reese are his familiars.’

‘Jesus, I’m living a Bram fucking Stoker novel!’

The unexpected chuckle of a response was laced with a hint of bitterness. ‘Oh nothing so simple as that.’ Then before I could question further he said, ‘Look, Magda does what’s necessary, and she seems to be able to see and understand just what that may be without all the squeamish grey areas of conscience most of the world has.’

‘That doesn’t make me feel any better, Michael. What? We’re all just collateral damage if she decides it’s best to throw the baby out with the bath water? Is that it? Who the hell is she, anyway, and why does she always wear those Men In Black glasses?’

His lips thinned to a tight, straight line, as though they were suddenly sealed. ‘Her story’s not mine to tell. You’ll have to ask her yourself.’

‘I bloody well will,’ I said, turning toward the door.

‘Wait!’ He grabbed my hand and guided me out into the silent corridor, pulling the door shut behind. ‘She’s not here at the moment. You can talk to her when she gets back.’

‘Where is she?’

‘On business that’s none of mine, or yours.’ He said, tightening his grip on my hand. ‘She keeps her own council and for the most part the less I know about it, the happier I am. I wager Alonso feels the same.’

‘She’s a scary bitch, that’s what she is,’ I said, wishing the instant I’d said it that I hadn’t, wondering if maybe she was listening, just waiting to catch me out, to catch me saying or doing something I shouldn’t, so she could lock me back down in the crypt. Maybe I was the bate; Maybe I was the collateral damage necessary to imprison the Guardian again.

‘No one who knows her would argue that point,’ Michael said. ‘But she’s the only one here who has a clue how to deal with the Guardian, the only one I know to ever imprison Him. And He was there, safely out of commission for a long time, a very long time, thanks to her.’

‘Until I released Him.’

‘I have no doubt He deceived you into it. No one was supposed to be able to hear him or be aware of him in any way, and no one has been before you. Magda says it’s to do with you being a Scribe. I don’t understand it all. She’ll have to explain.’

‘I’ll add that to my list of topics for conversation at our next little coffee clutch,’ I said.

‘Despite the woman being a scary bitch, or possibly because she’s a scary bitch, she’s our best chance of locking Him away again,’ Michael said.

‘You believe that?’

He nodded. ‘If we do as she says, I think she’ll get us out of this situation without that collateral damage you mentioned. If we do as she says.’ At the passage that led down into the basement to Alonso’s study, he turned aside and led me up a winding set of stone steps circling what had to be the inside of a tower.

‘Where are we going? What’s going on?’ I asked, struggling on the uneven steps. The words were barely out of my mouth before, halfway up the stairs, he pulled me through an arched doorway we both had to stoop to enter, and into a round stone room not much bigger than a janitor’s closet. It contained nothing but a twin bed and a nightstand, the only light coming from a small slit of a window at the back of a curved wall. Nothing else caught my attention before he slammed a heavy wooden door shut behind us and took my mouth in a scorching kiss pressing me up tight against the wall until I could feel the hard geography of his body shifting and undulating against mine which, before I knew what was happening was returning the favor.

‘Where are we? What the fuck are you doing?’ I honestly didn’t care what the answer to the first question was, and the second was just plain stupid, really. I knew the answer, and I knew what I was doing too, as I tugged at the belt to his jeans. There might have been a small part of me wondering how I could jump from the roller coaster of concern for my friend and plotting to get back to the Guardian to wanting to shag Michael’s brains out, but I shoved the thought aside as he went to work on the buttons of my shirt.

‘The mark, my mark,’ he emphasized. ‘It burns because it’s not been reinforced properly. I had intended to take care of it. Believe me, I was looking forward to it, but between the Guardian and Magda, I didn’t get the chance. It needs to be made stronger if it’s going to help protect you. Or me.’ He shoved the shirt off my shoulder and all but ripped the hooks of my bra open before he scooped my breast free, bent and began a delicious, tetchy suckle and bite, suckle and bite of the mark he’d left just above my nipple during our earlier love-making. If the Guardian’s touch had brought me excruciating pain through that mark, the feel of Michael’s tongue, his teeth, his lips brought me exquisite pleasure – far more pleasure than even his skilled fondling of my breasts should have been able manage.

As I ripped at his fly, he returned the favor, shoving my jeans and knickers down over my arse with a slight of hand that felt like magic … probably was magic, come to think of it. I wriggled and squirmed them down around my ankles and kicked one leg free, sending a shoe skittering across the stone floor, all the while he sucked and nipped, cupped and explored, and the mark sent heat waves of pleasure through every nerve ending in my body.

‘Get ‘em off! Get ‘em off, get ‘em off,’ had suddenly become my mindless mantra. I was much less graceful in my efforts than Michael had been in his, my hands made awkward, fingers unsteady by my own need. He responded to my uncomfortable tugging and shoving with a harsh, humid grunt against my breast. While wriggling and shifting as best he could in order to aid my efforts, he brought a jean-clad knee in between my thighs to open my legs, then teased me by bringing it up to rub and stroke until I was all but squatting onto it, rocking against it. Then he lost patience, gave a guttural curse, and shoved my hands away to deal with his uncooperative jeans himself. All the while his mouth remained hard at work on my breast, on his mark.

With that same slight of hand movement that had freed me from my clothing, he managed his jeans –commando beneath, I noticed — though I barely had time to notice anything before he cupped my buttocks in large, calloused hands and lifted me. In one effortless thrusting of his hips, he pushed up inside me, gasping as though someone had knocked the breath out of him. I arched my back against the wall to get closer to his efforts, my legs circling his waist, one foot still trailing jeans and knickers, frantic to get a grip, frantic to have him where I needed him.

He bit my breast, and this time I did feel pain, delicious ecstatic pain that radiated in waves down over my belly to throb like a heartbeat deep in my core each time he thrust. Then he raised his head, taking my mouth savagely before pulling away, bathing me in the hot coffee scent of his breath and the hotter, darker, scent of his lust. ‘I won’t share you with Him, Susan. You belong to me now, and I might have been forgettable in your little account that Magda so kindly read, but I’m not now, nor will I ever be again.’

I grabbed him by the hair with a white-knuckled fist and forced his mouth back to my breast.
‘Then you bloody well better make sure I don’t forget, Michael; do you understand me?’
In response, he bit again, and I cried out, but this time in orgasm, my head thump-thumping against the wall with each convulsive tremor as Michael clamped down hard and suckled as though he were a vampire and I was the main course. In all honestly, I wasn’t sure that he hadn’t drawn blood. Whether he had or not, the delicious result of the act was his own release, with each brutal pounding of his hips filling me with his fire, burning me, biting me, suckling me until the world disappeared, until I couldn’t recall my own name if my life depended upon it; until I could recall only one name, the only name on my lips over and over again, ‘Michael! Michael! Michael!’

What’s your Secret Desire? – Secret Desire by Jan Graham (@jan_graham)

October 8, 2015Guest Bloggererotic romance, erotica, jan graham, new release, secret desireK D Grace

Blurb

When Jake Munroe moves into his new apartment he has no idea the woman of his dreams is literally right next door. She’s beautiful, sexy, and frustratingly elusive. Finding the right time to make his move seems like it will never come, until she walks through the doors of his nightclub.

Sally isn’t looking for a new relationship but when Jake appears in her life, she grabs the opportunity to partake in some sexual healing. Her ex-husband left her convinced she could never sexually excite or satisfy a man, but those rule don’t seem to apply to Jake. He wants her—at least for now.

Desire rules us all and Jake’s desire for Sally is unequalled to anything he’s experienced before. He wants her in his life and is determined to have her, no matter what it takes. When he thinks he’s finally made Sally his own, he discovers a horrible truth. Sally has kept their relationship hidden from everyone she knows and Jake refuses to be anyone’s secret plaything.

Buy links

Also available from iTunes, Barnes and Noble, Nook, and Kobo, just type in the book or author name to acquire the listing.

hard and fast

Excerpt

Something icy cold pressed against Sally’s arm and she felt another chill run through her. She raised her head and stared at the large glass of water in front of her.

“You’re probably dehydrated. You hardly stopped dancing all night.” The deep, smooth voice washed over her, causing her body to begin to heat once more.

Sally turned her head toward the warmth and when she finally managed to focus her eyes, she wanted to moan in ecstasy. If there really was a God then he had truly out done himself. The man smiling down at her was perfection. He sat on the bar stool next to her, leaning against the wall. His hair was dark, almost black and hung just below his broad shoulders in long tantalizing waves. It sat brushed back from his face at the front, except for one stray curly strand that had worked its way loose to kiss up against his cheekbone.

His eyes were dark like his hair and conveyed the same warmth as his voice. His lips were thick and lush, ideal for kissing. As her gaze roamed down his body, she was taken by the hard chest and abs that were defined under his tight T-shirt, his legs were a lengthy example of perfection, muscular thighs under dark denim, and a bulge—Sally snapped her eyes back to his face and hoped she wasn’t blushing.

“Drink.” He leaned forward and spoke softly into her ear.

Oh, how could a man smell so divine? She had never smelt a man like him before. Sally’s pussy started to tingle, as he watched her bring the glass to her lips, and take a refreshing drink. She inhaled deeply. Accents of cinnamon and spice tantalized her nostrils. Talk about olfactory heaven.

“I just thought I’d sit here while I waited for my friends.” Sally had no idea why she felt the need to explain her presence to him and couldn’t understand why he looked at her with a wry smile as she spoke.

“I think they’ve left.” He gestured toward the dance floor.

“Oh God, I fell asleep didn’t I?” Sally was horrified once she realized the house lights were on and the dance floor empty. In fact the whole club was empty except for a few bar staff who were cleaning up.

“We cleared everyone out and closed the club about forty minutes ago.” He was smiling at her as he spoke. “You looked so peaceful I thought I’d let you sleep until I was ready to leave.”

Sally gasped when his body brushed against hers as he bent forward, a blaze of heat stroking her body where he touched. She noticed how his gaze roamed along her stockinged legs as he bent to pick up her shoes. As he returned to an upright position, his lips brushed against her leg and he planted a kiss on the lace that sat mid-thigh. She wanted to move, to push her wayward hemline back in place. Instead she just stared at the heated point where his lips had been, feeling the warmth spread upward toward her quickly moistening pussy.

“Nice stockings.” He stated as he took her hand and assisted her in stepping down from the stool. Sally wasn’t sure how she did it, but she managed to pull the hem of her dress back into position as he led her through a door and down a hallway to the club’s back entrance.

About the Author

Writing a bio that lets readers know who you are is tricky at times because I describe myself in so many ways. Like my books, I fall into different genres, all of which depend on my mood and inspiration at the time. I am a writer, a submissive, an orphan, a widow, a sister, an aunt, a friend, and sometimes, a wild child.

I live in Australia and writing is my passion, although finding the time to do it on a consistent basis is always a challenge for me. Life sends you curve balls when least expected them and I’ve had my fair share over the last few of years.

My writing currently falls under a variety of genres including BDSM, contemporary romance, and romantic suspense but who knows where my literary future will lead. That’s going to be the next exciting chapter of my life.

More information about what I’m up to, and general nonsense, is available by checking out my online hangouts.

Victoria Blisse has Good Manors! You Should Too!

October 6, 2015Blog, Guest Blogger, New Releaseserotic romance, light BDSM, new release, Victoria BlisseK D Grace

Good Manors is the latest offering from the Queen of Smut, Victoria Blisse. Part of the ‘What’s Her Secret Series’ of books from Totally Bound, this is a novel with twists, turns, secrets and steaming hot erotic encounters.

Set in an English country Manor, Victoria’s novel has a uniquely British feel and gives a glimpse behind the scenes of the aristocracy including its seedier side. Told from the point of view of both of the main characters, you see through the eyes of both the secret keeper and the one kept in the dark.

Blurb:

Mallard Hall plays host to games of submission and Dominance for one unique couple, but do the secrets of the past threaten the new bonds being forged?

India Grace, a respected journalist, is assigned to the estate for a behind the scenes look at how it runs. It is the last place in the world she wants to be. Back when she was young and naïve she took a photo of old Lord Mallard, which led to her success and his downfall. She carries the guilt with her to the location and it’s constantly in the back of her mind when she meets the hall’s latest owner, Xander Patrick.

Xander’s father died when he was only thirteen, and he doesn’t hold many good memories of him. He helped his mum build Mallard Hall back up, and since her death struggles to keep it going single-handedly. The last thing he needs is a meddling journalist poking into estate business, especially when the meagre profits are mysteriously disappearing.

The two try to keep their distance but find themselves drawn together in many unexpected ways. A meal leads to an investigation of secret passageways and from that India and Xander explore their attraction, using different rooms of the hall for their kinky games.

In the end India’s secret will have to come out, but will it bring the couple closer together or tear them apart?

Reader Advisory: This book contains scenes of light BDSM and voyeurism.

General Release Date: 15th September 2015

Excerpt:

“What did I say about interrupting?” I sighed tetchily.

“Sorry, Sir.” She dipped her head. “But you knew about the passages, right? Why didn’t you use those?”

I shook my head and loosened my tie.

“If you’d shut up I’d tell you. But no, you keep gabbling on. I think you’re doing it on purpose, naughty girl.”

“No,” she insisted. “No, Sir, I’m not.”

“Well, you won’t do it anymore.” I unlooped my tie and pressed it against her cheek. “I’m going to gag you so I can finish my story. If at any point you get uncomfortable with what’s happening raise your hand and I’ll untie you. Okay?”

“Yes, Sir.” She nodded.

I gave her a couple of moments more, just in case she wanted to use her safe word, but when she stayed silent, I wrapped my royal blue tie around her mouth and knotted it at the back securely. I ran a finger down the back to check it wasn’t too tight then cupped her face in my hands and dropped a kiss delicately in the middle of her forehead.

“Right, maybe now I can actually finish my story in peace.” I kissed her cheek right above the line of the tie.

“So, as I was about to say, I didn’t want to reveal the passageways to her because she might pass that information on, to Mum, to outsiders. I didn’t want that at all. So I searched the house and believe me, that’s no small feat. Finally, I found the attic, with the same warning sign that hangs on the stairs now.

“I cautiously ignored it, pushed on and discovered this. It was the perfect place to bring Ariana. It was here I discovered she had kinks. I mean, I was a naïve virgin…”

She snapped her head round to look at me.

“Yes, virgin. Anyway, I was just eager to fuck to be truthful and she was incredibly patient with me. I set up dozens of candles in here that first night. I thought it was romantic and you know, it looked spectacular. I didn’t have a clue what I was doing, but she did. After we fucked—I’m not afraid to say it was a short and fairly straightforward experience—she asked me to pour hot candle wax over her breasts. I didn’t know much, I thought it was weird, but if the lady who’d just happily taken my virginity wanted me to drip hot wax all over her then I was going to do it.”

India made a noise, muffled by the tie, which I’m sure was an indication of arousal.

“She went crazy, bucking under the stream. I was fascinated how it went from liquid to solid on her skin. She had me pick the cooled wax from her skin as I fucked her—that was an interesting balancing act. I loved the red marks that lingered, my marks left on her, physical evidence of what we’d done. I realized then—the very first time I had sex—that it was better with a bit of kink. I also found out that Ariana was submissive. She taught me all I know.

“So I like to come up here and remember. Remember all the good times. Mum sacked her when she found out we were—well, I can’t say dating, we never went on a date—fucking. I never saw her again.” I looked away from India at that moment, I knew there’d be sympathy in her eyes. I looked back to check on her once I was convinced I wouldn’t see it.

“So I keep some souvenirs of the old days up here.” I reached over behind the pile of pillows and pulled out a coiled-up length of rope, a candle and a flogger and placed them on the blanket before India. “Would you like to play?”

India nodded.

“Good.” I reached back again and after a little rummaging pulled out a box of matches and lit the chunky cream candle before me. “If at any point you’re not happy with what’s happening shake your head. I will stop the moment I see that sign. That will be your non-vocal safe word. If you understand and you’re happy with that, nod now.”

India nodded eagerly.

“Wonderful. Okay, stand up.”

India stood, and I helped her kick off her shoes, then undid her top and pulled it away from her. I let her keep her skirt for the time being. I stroked over her shoulders and down her arms. I looked her in the eye and I saw a world of desire painted in her gaze.

“Come with me.” I held her hand and walked her toward my favorite beam. It was the kind of beam developers hate. A little above waist height, it made walking through the middle of the room a pain. But I loved its old, weathered wood and the height was perfect for what I wanted to do.

I escorted India over to the beam and lay her arm flat along it.

“Keep it there,” I said and walked round her to smooth the other arm flat. I stood back and flipped up her skirt. It was a beautiful sight—India bent forward, arse presented to me. “Don’t move.”

Hurrying across the floorboards, I picked up the rope and flogger in one hand and the candle in the other. I settled the candle just beyond her reach at the left hand side of the beam, then unwrapped the bundle of rope until I had enough to encompass her wrist. She twisted her head to watch as I tied then coiled the rope once, twice, three times around her wrist and the beam.

“Now, I could loop this over your neck and hold that down too but since you’re gagged I won’t do that.” I just ran the rope underneath her and to the other arm.

She shifted and looked at me again as I wound the other wrist to the beam.

“Is that okay?” I asked, very much aware of how vulnerable she was and both turned on and grateful for her submission.

India nodded, narrowly avoiding hitting the beam with her chin.

“Good, if it gets too much just shake your head, don’t stop shaking it. If I see that I will stop immediately, understand?”

She nodded, and I stroked down from the top of her head, through her long luscious hair onto her back and over her buttocks. The subdued moan she made intensified a moment later when I rubbed down between her buttocks and cupped her pussy in my hand.

“Wet already.” I tutted. “I’ve barely touched you yet.”

Buy Links For Good Manors:

Reviews:

“Pure Blisse!” Karen Shenton

“The sex scenes are off-the-charts kind of HAWT…” The TBR Pile

“Full of sexy encounters and a gut wrenching confession Good Manors is a great page turner.” Alison Grieg

“I loved the writing on this book, it was engaging and sexy, with a hint of intrigue.” Momof3infl

About Victoria:

Victoria Blisse is a mother, wife, Christian, Manchester United fan and award winning erotica author. She is also the editor of several Bigger Briefs collections, and the co-editor of the fabulous Smut Alfresco, Smut in the City and Smut by the Sea Anthologies.

Victoria is also one of the brains behind the fabulous Smut events, days and nights dedicated to erotica, fun and prizes. Check out http://ilovesmut.uk for more details.

She is equally at home behind a laptop or a cooker and she loves to create stories, poems, cakes and biscuits that make people happy. She was born near Manchester, England and her northern English quirkiness shows through in all of her stories.

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

You can find often find Victoria procrastinating on Facebook http://facebook.com/victoriablisse , Twitter http://twitter.com/victoriablisse and Pinterest http://pinterest.com/victoriablisse

To find out more check out http://victoriablisse.co.uk

The 1003rd Post!

October 4, 2015Blog, Inspiration1003 posts!, celebratingK D Grace

The 1000^th post on A Hopeful Romantic completely took me by surprise, so I’m celebrating 1003 posts as an after-thought. I’d planned to rent a big hall in London, hell I’d even thought I might rent one in New York and Los Angeles as well. I’d planned to have a band, Champaign fountains, fireworks, dancing. Oh I had a really huge soirée in mind.

I’d planned to wear a midnight blue off the shoulder number made of shimmery, silky fabric, that if it didn’t make me exactly look like a fairy princess, certainly would have made me look like a very wicked witch with some very naughty magic in mind. And Raymond, well I’d planned for him to wear a kilt for the occasion and some serious bad-boy boots. He would have looked SO scary-hot.

It would have been the party of the century, I’m sure. But instead the 1000th post sneaked up on me and bit me in the butt when I wasn’t looking.

Since I’m too late to throw a big party, I thought I’d hit the highlights in pictures instead.

The Initiation of Ms Holly Started it all almost exactly five years ago. I was bursting with pride at the success of my lovely First Born.

The lovely Lucy Felthouse advised me that if I had a book, I should have a website and a blog for pimping
purposes and well, just so I could make myself known to the great big world of readers and writers out there. She designed my website and blog and helped me figure out just what the hell I was doing. And here she is, looking lovely and lusty at the launch of The Initiation of Ms Holly in Sh! Women’s Store! Thanks EP!

There were launch parties and readings and events in London and Las Vegas and Scarborough and Cardiff, to name just a few.

Soon Holly wasn’t alone. Her family grew and grew to include 11 novels, 6 novellas and countless short stories.

I got to be on telly!

I decided I’d have twice the fun, twice the Romance and Grace Marshall was born and so were the Executive Decision novels.

I wrote about walking

I wrote about gardening.

I shared my travels.

I won ETO’s Best Erotic Author Award 2014!

I posted about writing and the creative process and my experiences as a writer.

I became a Brit Babe.

I made fabulous friends and had some amazing people on my blog.

I shared the experience of collaborating with the lovely Moorita Encantada writing Medusa: The Eye of the Beholder a burlesque play.

I wrote my first ever M/M and my first ever vampire story for the fabulous box set, Brit Boys on Boys

I explored the online serial, first with Demon Interrupted, a Lakeland Witches novella.

Now with something totally different in my ongoing online series In The Flesh.

For 1003 blog posts I’ve been sharing my writing adventure and inviting other writers and artists and interesting people to do likewise. For 1003 posts I’ve been celebrating the written word, which is and always has been the passion of my life. For every picture, every memory shared, there are a thousand that I wish I could. It’s been an amazing 1003 posts! I can hardly wait to see what the next 1003 bring.

Thanks to all of the lovely people who have been my guests throughout those 1003 blogs and to all the lovely people who read and follow A Hopeful Romantic and especially to those who follow my blog because they enjoy my books. You’re all fabulous, and I hope to see you at the BIG soiree when I celebrate the 2003rd post. (If somebody would just, please, remind me at about post 1950 so I can hire the band and the fireworks blokes :-))

In The Flesh Part 20: Dark Paranormal Romance in Progress. Enjoy!

October 2, 2015Blogdark paranormal romance, In The Flesh serial, work in progressK D Grace

It’s that time of the week again! Time for the next instalment of In The Flesh. In episode 20 of In The Flesh, Susan visits a friend and plots a dangerous path to save Annie.

To read the story in its entirety up to this point, follow these links to:

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19.

In The Flesh Chapter 20

We had all needed a little break from the reading, and after Michael stormed out of the room, Magda had set aside the computer and suggested we take some time. Everyone was strung out and on edge, especially at the idea that somehow the Guardian had managed to breach the defenses of a paranoid vampire and his dangerous entourage. It didn’t help that, thanks to the reading, they were all clearly laying the blame at my feet. Magda said the last thing we needed was to tackle the rest of what I’d written in a less than calm state. Seriously? Did the woman really think any of us were going to be calm again until this situation was resolved? I certainly wasn’t likely to find a few minutes respite anywhere near enough of a distraction to calm my frayed nerves. But then, other than Michael, I was the only one who really understood just what we were up against and how badly He could make us want Him before we even realize He had touched us.

It seemed to me that a little break was the perfect time for me to check in on Annie, whom I had not seen since our strange arrival at High View. But when I had asked again to see her, Magda had insisted that I wait. ‘Seeing her like she is now will only make matters more difficult,’ she explained. ‘You’re connected to her. She’s another way the Guardian can get to you, can get to both of you, and through you everyone else here at High View. In fact, it’s not even wise to keep the two of you under the same roof, but it was the only choice I had at the time. I’ve taken every precaution I can, but that means the only way I can keep the Guardian away from her and keep her unaware of your presence or that she’s no longer with him, is to keep her … asleep.’

When I asked how she had managed that, she said it was very old magic. Though how could that surprise me, when I was in the home of a vampire who had a succubus for a confidante, and I was in said vampire’s ruined palatial estate with an angel who was out of sorts because of what I’d written while under the influence of some entity similar to a demon? Before I could argue with her about seeing Annie, Magda promptly reminded me that my best friend had come at me with a butcher knife.

The woman hadn’t waited for my response. I was quite clearly dismissed. She had left the room only minutes after Michael. For a moment we all sat staring at each other, then Alonso once again assumed his role as gracious host and sent for fresh coffee and pastries while everyone took a short breather. I was no more able to sit still and make pleasant conversation than Michael or Magda had been, so I had excused myself hoping to take a quick shower. I’d been wandering down a half-restored passageway trying to find my way back to my room when Cook saw me and assumed I was looking for Annie. It turned out her room was at the opposite end of the corridor and Cook had only just been there.

Once Cook disappeared down the hallway with an untouched tray from Annie’s room and, after checking both directions to make sure no one was watching, I knocked softly and let myself in. It took my eyes a few seconds to adjust to the darkened space and, at my first sight of her lying there in the bed, frail and unmoving, I was sure she was dead. I rushed to her side and grabbed up her icy hand, fisted around one of the rungs on the brass headboard. But the moment I touched her, she grabbed onto me with reflexes surprisingly fast and a grip terrifyingly strong. I half expected her to pull a butcher knife from under the duvet and come after me again. But then she moaned softly, completely undisturbed by my startled yelp, and her hand went limp in mine. Within a heartbeat she had relaxed and settled back into the thick bedding as though nothing at all had happened, the rise and fall of her chest returning to the slow, even breathing of deep sleep.

Her skin was waxen and grey, her face, even in repose, ravaged with the exhaustion the Guardian’s heavy demands had wrought upon her. In spite of the shock of seeing her so, I fought back my jealousy of the attention He had lavished on her, unable to keep my thoughts from straying to what He must have done to her, what they must have done together, how He must have pleasured her. Even as the unwelcome thoughts filled my head, I hated myself for them, but I hated her more for having Him all this time while I didn’t.

I recalled my dream with the Succubus, if that’s what it was; my secret planning with the Guardian for Him to take Annie as His lover until I could return and take my place next to Him. He had promised me that by His side was where I belonged, and I had believed Him without even the tiniest doubt. And then he had taken the memory of that night from me to keep our secret, He said. He promised all of what we shared that night would come back to me once we were together, but for now, it was best I didn’t remember. That would make it easier for me to function without Him until I could join Him forever. That was what He told me, and I believed Him without question. Dear God, could I have really betrayed my friend to such a fate? But even as I recalled that night, that experience, our scheming, I burned with jealousy at the plan He instigated, the plan He said would ultimately be best for the two of us, would ultimately guarantee we would be together. Annie meant nothing to Him, He had promised me, but He would do what He had to, whatever it took for us to be together. Perhaps He took those memories from me because He know I couldn’t have endured the jealousy, I would have driven myself insane thinking about her taking my place with Him, her naked on her mattress next to the altar inviting Him in again and again, and Him taking her over and over, instead of me. It should have been me. I should have stayed. I remember thinking that just before He took my memories.

And when He took them, in the taking, He had touched me, and His touch had been like a promise, one so sweet and so ecstatic that the very anticipation of its fulfillment was only a step away from orgasm, only a heartbeat away from pleasure I could barely imagine.

Then shame rushed back on me like a tidal wave followed in short order by denial. How could I have done this – any of this — to my best friend? Surely it couldn’t have been me. Surely it had only been a bad dream, just as I had been hoping all this time. She was the one with the demon lover after all, not me. She was the one who had come after me with a butcher knife. She was the one who caused all this pain and horror… surely she was.

Carefully, as though I feared waking her, or perhaps that my touch would hurt her, I settled onto the edge of the bed next to her still holding her hand, lightly stroking the back of it with my thumb. ‘Annie, I don’t know what to do,’ I whispered. ‘I’m so, so sorry that I dragged you into this mess. I … You have to believe me, I’d never have hurt you deliberately. I didn’t know. I swear to you, didn’t know. Perhaps I should go back to Chapel House.’

The words were out of my mouth almost of their own volition and, to my horror, I found myself rationalizing my need to return to the place, and to Him. After all, it was the only way I could save Annie, right? I could surely convince Him to let her go, to guarantee her safety in exchange for me. ‘If I go back, Annie, and you stay here with Magda and Michael and … well there’s just so much magic in this house. I think if anyone could make you better, Magda Gardener could. There’s something about her. I don’t know what it is, but she could make you better. I know she could.’

It seemed the most logical thing in the world to me, as I spoke. I would go back. I would be the
sacrifice to save Annie. And Michael too, right? He still had a hold on Michael, but it was me He wanted. I knew that it was. I had always known that, hadn’t I? I was the only one who could be to Him what He needed. All the others he’d ever been with down through the ages, all the lovers he had ever taken, all of them had only been His deep longing, His timeless search to find me. The more I thought about it, the more certain I was of the truth of it. The excitement at the thought of returning to Him grew tight and full beneath my breastbone, and in the dark places at the back of my mind, I was already planning my escape from High View and back to Him. It wouldn’t be easy sneaking away at night, not from a Vampire’s lair, but I felt certain in myself that He would help me, whether I fled to him in broad daylight or in the darkness of night. He would protect me from them and aid my escape. And then once I was safe away, safely back with Him, I would send word of my sacrifice and all would be well. I knew it would. He would free Annie and Michael and we would be together, just like He’d always wanted, like we’d both always wanted.

‘Oh, Annie,’ I said, squeezing her hand, ‘It’s the right thing to do. It just has to be. I mean what else can I do?’ I raised her hand to my lips and kissed it fervently. ‘I just … I just want you to be okay, Annie. I just want you to be okay that’s all I want. That’s all I ever wanted.’

‘It’s not all you want.’

I nearly jumped out of my skin as I turned to find Michael leaning against the frame of the door, hair sparkling with droplets of the light rain that has started outside during the reading of the account of my little encounter. I had no idea how long he’d been standing there, but as I shook myself back to reality, I knew it had probably been long enough for him to understand exactly what was going on. Long enough to realize the dangerous precipice upon which I now teetered.

In The Flesh Chapter 21

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In The Flesh Chapter 20

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