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I Stayed In A Haunted Bed And Breakfast… And Lived! by Elizabeth Black (@ElizabethABlack)

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thingsthatgohump300x200My first novel, An Unexpected Guest, was inspired by Vita Sackville-West’s short story An Unborn Visitant, about a stick-in-the-mud woman in the early 19th century visited by the spirit of someone important to her who changes her life. I took that story to heart, ran with it, and An Unexpected Guest was born. This book takes place in the fictitious town of Norwich, Massachusetts, which is on the northeast coast between Rockport and Ipswich. I imagine it sitting next to Innsmouth, the fictitious town H. P. Lovecraft created for his horror story A Shadow Over Innsmouth. No, there are no fish people in Norwich. 🙂

 

An Unexpected GuestHere’s a blurb from the book:

Annie’s life is in crisis, and it’s time for her to change things. She is determined to be controlled no longer by her arrogant boyfriend and overbearing mother: for the first time in her life, she is going to follow her dreams and do something she truly wants for herself. Her dreams lead her to a picturesque Bed and Breakfast by the ocean that is rumored to be haunted. As she throws fear to the wind and opens up to life’s new possibilities she meets Jason, whose long blonde hair and cheeky attitude she cannot resist.

 

The bed and breakfast is called the Abigail Blackburn House, and I based it on a haunted bed and breakfast on Maryland’s Eastern Shore. This b&b dates back to the Revolutionary War, and it sits on a river. I had heard about it several years earlier, and after much planning finally stayed there when I was in town for a theater stage crew convention. The story behind the haunting is as follows: British soldiers came up the river and proceeded to set the small town on fire, destroying most of it. Soldiers threw torches on the porch of this b&b, which was originally a brothel. The proprietress swept the torches off the porch with her broom. She made a deal with the soldiers. She would house them, feed them, and allow them to use her services as long as they didn’t burn the place down. They agreed, and this b&b was allowed to stand whilst homes around it burned to the ground.  The haunting involves the ghost of the proprietress wandering the halls in the dead of night, checking on her clientele and the women to make sure everyone was comfortable. There have been other sightings as well. The b&b itself is absolutely beautiful, decorated in Victorian splendor. It includes a lovely bar and discounted dinners every Friday night. The rooms are beautiful, spacious, and very homey in that Victorian style I liked very much.

The first time I stayed it was off-season in mid-winter. I was in a room overlooking the river. What a view! I enjoyed a delicious meal and the company of a man I met in the bar. He came to the b&b several times per month to enjoy dinner when in town on business. No, I did not take him to bed, although he was very handsome. We ate dinner together. That night I slept well until about 3 am when I heard a party going on in the room next to me. There was a lot of noise. I managed to go back to sleep. At about 4:30 am I heard heavy footsteps walking up and down the hallway. I immediately thought of the ghost of the proprietress stalking the halls checking on everyone and went back to sleep. I wondered why she wore combat boots, since the footsteps were very loud and heavy. I felt very safe, secure, and comfortable. Not the least bit scared.

The next day, when I went down for breakfast, I told the clerk about the party and the footsteps. She told me I couldn’t have heard anything because I had been alone in the building all night. Yeeeahhh!!!!! The party! The footsteps! None of it could have happened!!!

Of course, I had to return. 🙂

The second time I stayed I was with my husband. While we slept, someone turned on the overhead light in the middle of the night. I was a very light sleeper and I snapped awake the moment the light turned on. He snored away next to me. I was far too tired to get up and turn off the light, so I went back to sleep. When I woke up shortly before dawn, the light was out. I asked my husband later about the light and he said he had turned it off before going to bed. He didn’t get up during the night at all.

So who turned on the light? And who later turned it off?

I heard those footsteps in the hallway again, and felt as safe as I did the first time.  No party this time, though. At least this time there were other guests in the place. I wasn’t alone in the building again.

My experiences affected me so much I wrote about them later in An Unexpected Guest.  This book includes information about the flu pandemic of 1918 and how it affected the region. Plus it’s a very romantic and haunting love story. The town of Norwich is based on the Massachusetts coastal town where I live. It has all the homes that date back to the 1800s, the ocean, the cliffs, the beaches, and the rustic romance.  If you love a good and romantic ghost story, you’ll love An Unexpected Guest.

 

Excerpt:

[Intro: Annie and Jason are on the deck of the Abigail Blackburn house overlooking the harbor. He has told her numerous times it’s very important that she buy the house. He’ll do anything to convince her to buy, but she doesn’t know the real reason he needs her to buy the place. Is Jason a ghost or is he flesh and blood?]

“Why is it so important to you that I buy this house?”

“I already told you. I don’t want to lose you. You seem to have your heart set on owning this house, but you have your doubts. I hope I can help to talk you into it.”

“If it’s any consolation to you, I’m leaning towards buying it.”  A boom sounded from outside, followed by a loud whistle. Curious, Annie walked to the picture window, with Jason following on her heels.

A burst of fireworks covered the sky with red and yellow sunbursts. Another firework sailed into the air, and burst into a blue and red flower with trails of yellow that fell to the harbor like tropical fish swimming in the ocean. Annie loved fireworks. A trill of excitement traveled from her stomach and up her spine. Here she was, trapped in a New England snowstorm by the ocean, and a party materialized around her. Nothing like that ever happened in western Massachusetts, where she lived. Norwich was so romantic. It was the perfect location for her to live. Another burst of fireworks criss-crossed the night sky, and Annie felt the boom in her chest. The party was such a fun, festive thing, and she was happy to be a part of it. She felt very at home in the Abigail Blackburn house. It would be easy to live there.

A yellow sunburst exploded a little too close to some trees. It was so loud that Annie jumped.

“They’re going to light the trees on fire!” Annie said. “How did they get fireworks this time of year?”

“I think I know who set them off. Those guys can find fireworks any time of year. Want to go outside and watch?”

Annie held open her kimono. “I’m not exactly dressed, and it looks cold out there.”

Jason walked towards a chair, and removed his coat that he had draped over it. “Put this on. It will keep you very warm. It’s lined with fur.”

“What about you?”

“I’ll be fine. You’ll keep me warm.”

Annie put on Jason’s coat. She buried her face in the fur lining and smelled the sweetness of his Halston cologne and his sweat. It was still warm from when he had worn it last. They walked outside onto the deck. A roman candle soared into the air. Each colorful ball of light illuminated the falling snow.

“This is beautiful. I could imagine myself living here. I don’t want to leave. I do think I could make a go of this place. I badly want to buy it.”

“Then buy it,” Jason stood behind her. He wrapped his arms around her waist. She intertwined his fingers with her own. Fireworks fell over the harbor and into the water. The snow fell silently around her. She lifted her head, and held out her tongue. Three snowflakes alighted on her tongue.

“How do you like our snowflakes? We have only the best tasting snowflakes in Norwich.” Jason whispered in her ear.

“I love eating snowflakes. The snow is really coming down. It’s exciting being trapped here for a couple of days. I used to eat snowflakes when I was a kid. There was always lots of snow in western Massachusetts.”

“You get more snow than we get here. Most of the time, snowstorms blow over by the coast, and the clouds dump the snow on Boston or farther west. Cape Cod gets more snow than we do. But not tonight!”

“I love watching the snow fall on the harbor. Look at the way the lights reflect on the water.”

“And just think – you can have that view all the time if you buy this place. Don’t go anywhere,” Jason squeezed her around the waist. “I’ll be right back.” He returned to the dining room.

Annie walked to the edge of the deck and leaned against the railing. She heard laughter coming from a bare spot down the hill on the beach. Five people bundled in heavy coats shoved bottle rockets into the sand, and lit the wicks. They ran away from the fireworks, giggling all the while. The bottle rockets exploded and sailed into the air with a loud whistle. Annie felt a sudden urge to join them. She wanted to be a part of the festivities. When she looked around, she realized that she already was a part of the goings-on. Jason obviously went to pick up something for her. Clarice spotted Annie looking around, and she waved. Annie smiled and waved back. Living in Norwich would be easy. The locals already welcomed her. It was up to her to make them a part of her life.

 

Buy links for “An Unexpected Guest”

Fanny Press: http://fannypress.com/2009/12/12/an-unexpected-guest/

Amazon Paperback: http://tinyurl.com/yb9ya5t

Amazon Kindle US: http://tinyurl.com/yhbll2h

Amazon Kindle UK: http://amzn.to/1rCWxGn

Web Site Page: http://elizabethablack.blogspot.com/p/unexpected-guest.html

 

Elizabeth BlackElizabeth Black – Bio

Elizabeth Black writes erotica, erotic romance, speculative fiction, fantasy, and horror. She also enjoys writing retellings of classic fairy tales. Born and bred in Baltimore, she grew up under the influence of Edgar Allan Poe. Her erotic fiction has been published by Xcite Books (U. K.), House Of Erotica (U. K.), Circlet Press, Ravenous Romance, Scarlet Magazine (U. K.), and other publishers. Her horror fiction has appeared in “Kizuna: Fiction For Japan”, “Stupefying Stories”, “Zippered Flesh 2: More Tales Of Body Enhancements Gone Bad”, “Midnight Movie Creature Feature 2”, “Voluted Tales”, and “Mirages: Tales From Authors Of The Macabre” (edited by Trent Zelazny). “Zippered Flesh 2” made the recommended reading list for the 2013 Bram Stoker awards. An accomplished essayist, she was the sex columnist for the pop culture e-zine nuts4chic (also U. K.) until it folded in 2008. Her articles about sex, erotica, and relationships have appeared in Good Vibrations Magazine, Alternet, CarnalNation, the Ms. Magazine Blog, Sexis Magazine, On The Issues, Sexy Mama Magazine, and Circlet blog. She also writes sex toys reviews for several sex toys companies. She has appeared as a speaker at numerous conventions including Balticon, Arisia, NoVaCon, SheVaCon, JohnCon, and two Worldcons.

 

Where To Find Me On The Web

Elizabeth Black – Blog and Web Site: http://elizabethablack.blogspot.com/

Elizabeth Black – Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/elizabethablack

Elizabeth Black – Twitter: http://twitter.com/ElizabethABlack

Elizabeth Black – Ello: https://ello.co/elizabethblack

Elizabeth Black – Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/author/elizabethblack

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Erotic Autumn by Tabitha Rayne

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thingsthatgohump300x200Well hello and happy spooky season 😀

I’m delighted to take part in this supernaturual humpery here at Kd’s place – especially celebrating her Lakeland Witches!

I always think I hate leaving summer behind – I really find it tough when I have to put my wee bare toes back into bedsocks of an evening. But then, in late September, something magical happens…

web from PinterestThe spiders come out.

One morning, you wake up and go outside to see the first webs of the season laden with sparkling orbs of dew. If you’re really lucky, this sight might be accompanied by the raspy caw of a crow or two. One of my favourite sounds in all the world is the call of a  crow carried on the heavy breath of a misty morning… ahhhh. It fills me with a melancholic dread that both terrifies and excites me beyond reason.

So before I know it, I don’t give a damn about summer and I’m fully and utterly immersed in autumn. Everything smells so earthy and feral, I just love the atmosphere – expectant for something spooky and dark. I think it is the true season of erotica, don’t you?

I’m going to leave you with an excerpt of Mia’s Books – my paranormal tale of love and a sexy ghostly threesome romp… Follow me on twitter at @tabithaerotica and tweet me something spooky (not too scary, I am a total wimp) with hashtag – #KdsGooseHumps and I’ll pop you in a draw for an ebook copy 😀

Here goes – thank you so much for having me over Kd x x x

Mia's BooksMia cast the flashlight around to find one of the couches that adorned the big room. As the light caught the end of the sofa, Mia thought she saw a shadow flit around behind it.

“Hello?” Her voice quivered, and a chill ran down her neck. She thought she heard an intake of breath and flung herself around the shelf, sweeping the flashlight back and forth over the books. Nothing.

As a non-sleeper she was used to prowling the night alone, but she was most definitely not immune to scaring herself. She shrugged and took a seat on the cool, hard leather of the couch.  Cocooned in darkness, she felt a little more comfortable.

Taking off her sweater, she placed it at the small of her back, and stretched out her legs down the length of the sofa. As she took a deep breath and got ready to read, the same chill ran through her, over her chest this time, and Mia was amazed to feel her nipples stiffen under her blouse. She aimed the beam at her chest and sure enough, there they were standing proud and erect like frozen little buds. She reached up to one and rubbed it between her fingers. It really was cold. It was the oddest sensation, but one she was keen to explore further. Holding the flashlight in her mouth, she untucked her top from her waistband and slid her hand up onto her bare breast.

She opened the book with her other hand while softly massaging her nipple around and around. The story began, setting up the characters and plot, but Mia skipped on until she found the words she was looking for: pussy, cock. She felt a flush deep between her legs as the sensation in her nipples intensified to both breasts now.

The stimulation from her fingertips was being mirrored onto the other. The icy touch in her left breast was magnifying, as if it was being massaged by another person. She maneuvered the flashlight between her teeth to see the fabric of her shirt being pulled and puckered in time with the sensations. She shrieked, dropping the book and torch, and scrambled onto the floor.

“What the fuck was that?” Her voice was trembling. “Where are you?” She was met with deathly silence, and she gulped in air to keep up with her heartbeat. Warmth reclaimed her nipples, and her breathing slowed.

She picked up the flashlight and swung it around, knowing that she wouldn’t see anything. Don’t be ridiculous, she kept telling herself over and over again. Shaking with both fear and arousal, she took her place on the sofa and picked up the book. As she brought it up to lean on her thighs, she realized it felt different. Her fingers detected leathery raised text on the cover where before it had been smooth and pristine. She leafed the edge of the pages to feel them soft and worn, and inhaled the musty scent of an ancient tome.

Mia was trembling when she finally shone the light on the title.

Ghost Lover.

The beautifully embossed gold font was bordered by strange dark symbols and patterns. Mia was still shaking as she opened the first page.

It was blank, but as she looked more closely a smudge of black ink began to form and take the shape of perfectly handwritten words on the page.

My gift to you, Mia, it spelled out in stunning calligraphy…

 

TabithaAnd there you have it…

If you like hanging out on the internet, you can find me and my links and my saucy drawings at www.TabithaRayne.com

Hope to see you around and don’t forget to join in Kd’s giveaway and guests for the rest of the month x x

*****

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Mixing the Spooky With the Sexy by Vanessa de Sade

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thingsthatgohump300x200Mixing spooky with sexy…  For me that’s a cocktail so delicious that it often proves quite irresistible and, as an author, it also allows me to indulge in some of my darkest fantasies.

So when the nights begin to get longer and the dark comes early along with foggy evenings and the scents of fires being lit, it’s nice when emails from editors start filtering in with requests for Halloween stories for their October anthologies.

Being a lady of certain years, shall we say, and well past the spring chicken stage of life, I grew up on Hammer re-runs in our local Odeon on Sunday nights, and there was always a certain thrill in the way that old Jimmy Sangster movies used to mix men with hairy chests with large-breasted women in diaphanous nightgowns and copious buckets of blood.  (What can I say, I’m weird and I know it!)

Of course, I’ve always been into weird cinema where they love to put the erotic hand-in-hand with the forces of darkness, and there’s been a big helping of sexiness in the weirdos who slide out from under our beds when the lights go out at night from the silent-era German expressionists onwards.  Just Google Conrad Veidt as the Somnambulist if you’re feeling horny some dark sleepless night, and you’ll see what I mean!  And, oh,  Bela Lugosi’s eyes as Dracula…  Sorry, Robert Pattinson, you’re a beautiful boy but you just don’t have those eyes, oh those eyes…  [Slaps self in face to regain composure.]

Anyway, you get what I’m saying.  Dark and sinister, sexy, it’s a foregone conclusion.  Plus erotic horror gets to be that little bit darker than ordinary work-a-day erotica too!

So, to this end, I thought I’d treat you all to a little excerpt from one of my spine-chillers (though it will –hopefully – effect some other parts of your anatomy too!) – a naughty little piece of surrealism called First Blood that goes off into all sorts of forbidden places.  Here’s the blurb:

 

First Blood

World War II England. A voluptuous girl is led from her towering iceberg-like mansion while the midnight sky is aflame with the sound of bombs and gunfire. Taken across a gleaming black lake she is left bound, naked, to a tombstone, waiting for whatever is roaming the derelict island cemetery to slake its lust…

“A darkly Gothic tale which skilfully combines the macabre with the erotic, resulting in a ghoulish exploration of taboo sexuality that will make even the coldest blood boil.”

It’s available as part of my two-story collection called Crimson Velvet and I’m pleased to say that my wonderful publishers have several copies of this to give-away.  Just “like” my Erotic Fairy Tales Facebook page

( https://www.facebook.com/eroticfairytales?ref=br_tf  ) and I’ll send you one on!

 

Here’s a little excerpt for you:

But my hungers, far from being appeased, only became magnified ten-fold from my constant masturbation and I yearned constantly for the touch of another’s flesh, the hot sweet juices of an excited pussy all over my face as my lover buried her tongue deep inside my sopping slit.

And then one morning I discovered my power.

My family had lived on our land for millennia, constantly rebuilding our stately homes as fashion dictated.  We owned the valley in which we abided and the salt water lake that gleamed in front of us.  We owned the hills behind us and the fields in the plain and the wooded slopes and meadows beyond our hills.  More importantly, we owned all the people who lived here and worked for us too, the servants, the farmers, even the officious estate stewards who still exercised my long-dead father’s hunter in the frost-kissed parklands each winter dawn.

Thus when Rose came to my room with my tea that morning I asked her to undress for me.

I was trembling as I spoke the words, fearful and uncertain still of my power, but she simply looked at me from beneath her long lashes and nodded.

“Is there any special way that you would like me to disrobe, Madam?” she asked, a slight tremble to her voice as her fingers toyed with the pearl buttons on her blouse, her little breasts pert beneath the shimmering white silk.

And I knew that I should strip her slowly and savour the moment, like a fine French confection constructed from layer upon fragile layer of spun sugar and filo pastry, peel her garments from her like the petals of a warm artichoke dripping in butter.  And yet I could not.  I was like a starving man before a banquet, a carnivore with the scent of blood in my nostrils, and I just wanted to throw myself upon her and taste the salt of her cunt.

And so I told her to lift her skirt and pull her panties down, and, to my astonishment, she obeyed wordlessly, her fingers tremulous as she drew the stiff black material up, quickly turning it inside-out and pulling it over her heaving little breasts, standing there breathing heavily as my eyes ate her up.

I had expected her to be wearing cami-knickers like my own, loose and silky, but instead she had on a pair of tight snowy white cotton interlock panties, the thin fabric glued to her frame like a second skin with a deep indentation at the crotch, like a camel’s foot.

“Do you want me to pull my pants right down or just flip them over?” she asked.  She should have been wearing stockings but the war had all but stopped the production of nylons and I knew that she was saving the only pair she had left for dinner time, her utility white suspenders hanging nakedly over the bleached cotton of her underpants.

“Turn them inside out and then pull them down to your knees, so that you cannot run away,” I managed to blurt out and she immediately obeyed, denuding herself for me.

At first I thought that she had shaved herself, but then I realised that her cunt was just as hairy as mine except that her silky vixen fur was so fine and blonde that it was almost white, like a snowdrift, her big deep slit like a chasm, all her pink low slung labia clearly visible.

“Am I what you imagined, Madam?” she asked in a low tremulous voice, touching herself.

“How do you know that I imagined?” I countered, eating her up with my eyes and inhaling her scent.

“Because I take your silken undergarments when they are still warm each night and press them to my face and breathe in your desire, and I imagine kissing your hot and hairy cunt and feeling your tongue in mine,” she whispered, then added respectfully, “Madam.”

I was speechless for a second before I managed to gasp, “Come here.”

 

Vanessa Biog

Vanessa de Sade is a forty-something full-figure gal who likes to write hot stories about real women exploring the darker regions of their own sexuality. She is a regular contributor to anthologies, plus is the author of the solo story collections Black & White Movies; Nude Shots; In the Forests of the Night and Tales from a Tangled Bush.

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What’s a Thunderclap Campaign? Ruby Madden Can Tell You

Blog, Guest Blogger, New Releases, , , , ,

More or less, it’s a shout-out. Of a good kind.

It’s you, using FaceBook, Twitter, tumblr or whatever social media tool you enjoy – to share that you support something. In my case, it’s being used to build momentum for several releases I’ve had recently and an upcoming release on 3rd October.

If you’ve enjoyed my writing, are simply curious, just enjoy tweeting or like to support erotic/romance fiction writers in general, may I be so bold as to ask for your help? Click here: Ruby Madden’s ThunderClap  https://www.thunderclap.it/projects/16065-one-two-three

If I get 100 people willing to participate, then my thunderclap will resound far and wide via social media on 3rd October. Like lightning striking, it’s a way to ‘boost the signal’, generate interest, engage new readers and share. Currently, I have 19 supporters. I need 81 more!!

I’ve never done this type of campaign before, so I’m a ThunderClap *virgin* and yes, that would be about the only thing I’m a virgin of….
I’m calling it my One-Two-Three (1-2-3!) Campaign due to following THREE releases…

 

 


Ruby Madden ThunderClap Campaign 2Part 1: Queen’s Pets

DESCRIPTION: Celia Shay’s lifestyle is truly unique. She lives a life of plush comfort and full care as a kept human ‘pet’. A term of affection in the BDSM and kink community for when a Mistress or Master chooses to ‘own’, train and ‘collar’ a submissive person in exchange for their complete service, devotion and love.

Celia’s ‘owner’ is a Mistress, the Queen, as she is known in the kink community and world. A Mistress of royal descent who moved to the States over a decade ago to escape her country’s political turmoil.

Celia is one of three female ‘kitten’ human-pets and one male ‘puppy’ human-pet. Each week is a semi-adventure in the Queen’s Castle, the sprawling mansion-like home that they all live in.

LINKS: AMZN U.S. & AMZN U.K. (KindleUnlimited eligible in the U.S.)

 


Ruby Madden ThunderClap Campaign 1Part 2: Mistress Cherry

DESCRIPTION: A novella, told in parts, about erotic control in the Emerald City, Seattle.
“Ethan, this is my favorite moment, before all of my other favorite moments are created with a new client. You are my work of art, mine to possess, sculpt, mend, bend, and make beg for mercy. You will adore worshiping, pleasing and serving me.” ~ Mistress

The story continues… Ethan is claimed, collared and bound into willing chastity by his Mistress. Cherry engages and frolics with another potential long-term play-mate to add to their dynamic. Will Ethan agree to the menage and cuckolding she is angling their erotic entanglement towards?

LINKS: AMZN U.S., AMZN U.K., KOBO, PLAY

 

 

Ruby Madden ThunderClap Campaign 3Part 3: Master’s Maids

DESCRIPTION: Twenty-something Celeste is just a simple person, trying to make ends meet working as a maid for the wealthy and powerful. Recently unemployed with rent coming due, she seeks employment through a maid-services agency and gratefully agrees to a unique and well-paying job that requires a signed contract arrangement.

Her life changes forever when welcomed into Cardiff Manor, the private estate and residence of Master Cardiff. Her work requirements are highly unique as well as very erotic. Firm boundaries established when and how interaction occurs between Master and maid, while room for erotic frolicking and exploration with the other maids under Master Cardiff’s employ are encouraged.

Celeste finds that satisfying the erotic proclivities of her Master are not only intriguing, and eventually sought after, but open her to an entirely different realm and way of living than she had ever dared imagined. Join her as she discovers her submissive nature and is introduced to her growing preference for kinky sex-play.

Pre-Order LINKS: AMZN U.S.& AMZN U.K.

Caught On Camera by Destiny Blaine

Guest Blogger, , , , , ,

Caught On CameraPublished by Siren-Bookstrand

Love at First Sight, Book One—A series of LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT romances, all of which stand alone

Blurb

Bailey Chapman isn’t looking for love but when Nick Palmani shows up at a bonfire and starts pursuing her, she notices. Soon, the two are grinding out their passionate fantasies. Unbeknownst to the couple, the entire episode is caught on camera.

Nick Palmani knows Bailey possesses that special spark, but when he discovers Bailey’s father owns the farm where he’ll soon work, things are complicated. After a night of passion is caught on camera and the entire groping session goes viral, he isn’t too certain of his job security. He’s more concerned about Bailey and how her life will soon spin out of control.

Fearing Bailey will do whatever necessary to pacify her family and avoid unattractive labels, Nick whisks her away to an undisclosed location. Soon, secrets are revealed in front of an interested public and Bailey and Nick must decide if they can move forward together or find a way to leave their explosive past behind.

Buy Link: http://www.bookstrand.com/destiny-blaine

 

Excerpt:

“Your father seems like a nice fella,” Nick said, never cracking a smile.

“Oh yeah? Wait until you meet my mother. She’s a real gem.”

“And you think I’ll meet her sometime in the next few minutes?”

“Got somewhere you need to be?”

“You might say that.” Nick massaged the back of his neck, acting positively amused.

“You think this is funny?”

“No, Bailey. I don’t. I didn’t drive five hundred miles for the career start I’ve been dreaming of only to have the farmer’s daughter screw me over by luring me to her bed.”

“I don’t want to hear about it,” she said flippantly. “I knew you were a player. If somebody jumped your bones after you and I were through, that’s between the two of you. I don’t want to know anything about it.”

He stared at her blankly.

“And you apparently lost your way more than once if you landed here instead of wherever you’re supposed to be.” She sat on top of her dad’s desk, wishing he’d hurry up. Whatever he was saying to Stacy and her brother must’ve been along the lines of a good old-fashioned sermon. Before long the handkerchief would come out.

“Are you in denial?” Nick rose to his feet and stalked her. “I mean are you so involved in your little fantasies and daydreams that you can’t get a real grip on reality here?”

“I have a fine grip on reality. Thank you very much.” She glanced down at that thick bulge in his jeans and nearly came thinking about how he’d groaned at her ear when she’d wrapped her hand around him the night before. Moistening her lips she stared at his crotch and said, “I’m actually surprised you don’t remember.”

“Oh, I remember all right.” He released a guttural growl and studied her for a long time before he added, “You don’t know.”

“I don’t know what?”

“You don’t have the faintest idea what’s going on here.”

She crossed one leg over the other. “I’m a lot of things. Stupid I’m not. You obviously drove cross country for employment—probably somewhere like over at Melanie Shaffer’s place—and somehow pulled in our driveway by mistake. You’re the one who announced we’d had a thing, a fling. Now, my dad will probably call her dad to warn her that some…some older guy…is coming on to his daughter and Shaffer better lock his up.” She studied her fingernails and that’s when it hit her. “Oh my God. You weren’t talking about Melanie or the Shaffers. Were you?”

 

Author Bio and Links

Destiny Blaine is one pseudonym for the award-winning international bestseller Susan Smith Alvis. Destiny writes in most subgenres with a mix of intimate pairings. Her upcoming title, Rendition, will be released soon from Siren-Bookstrand.

A career writer for over a decade, Destiny and her husband live in East Tennessee with their four pampered pets. For more information, follow Destiny on Twitter at www.Twitter.com/DestinyBlaine or Facebook at www.Facebook.com/DestinyBlaine. Visit her on the web at www.destinyblaine.com