New Halloween Release: Heart's Fall by Zenobia Renquist

Heart's Fall (Trick or Treat) by Zenobia Renquist
Heart's Fall
[ Trick or Treat ]
[ Fey Holidays ]
by Zenobia Renquist

Publisher: Changeling Press
Genre: Erotic Urban Fantasy Romance, Halloween, Interracial, MF
Length: Novella / Short Story

The trick to love is never letting go.

A simple Halloween tradition turns into more than Vivian or Cala anticipated. They thought their wild midnight romp was a one time thing, but the deep longing for each other that remains says otherwise. Fey magic is ready to bind them together forever, assuming they can find each other again.

Read the first chapter:

Buy Now:
Changeling Press :: Kindle :: Kobo :: Nook
ARe (5% off limited time) :: CTR (20% off limited time)

NOTE: During October 2013, use the discount code GreatPumpkin2013 when you shop at Changeling Press in this year's Pumpkin Patch and take 10% off your entire order and be entered to win books.

"If you wanted to be head of House Hallowed Eve, you shouldn't have donned the Autumn mantle. That was your choice. The duties you now shirk to search for this unknown girl are not a choice."

"She isn't unknown." Cala knew so much about her he thought he would drown in the knowledge. The sound of her passion, the way her body tensed as she neared the peak of her pleasure, the gentle brush of her lips as she laid them against his skin, the rippling texture of her silky braids running through his fingers, the --

"Tell me her name."

"What?" He'd been so lost in thought that he hadn't heard his father's words correctly.

"Her name, Cala. Tell it to me. If you know so much about her, tell me her name."

Cala gritted his teeth. "You know I cannot."

"Of course not, which is why you are in this state." Mori gestured to Cala's obvious arousal. "This as well is the fault of your rash behavior. I should have never allowed you to become head of Autumn Clan. You are too young, too immature."

"I'm three hundred and sixteen years old. I'm not a child --"

"Her name?"

They would go round and round with this conversation if Cala allowed it. He didn't have time for this. Every second that ticked by lessened his power. Autumn was ending. He had until the winter solstice to find her. As the head of a season clan, he could only interact with the humans during his season. That was the agreement all those of the four season clans had made.

He shook his head as desperation clawed up from the dark place he'd shoved it, threatening to make him give up. "Had I let the magic come --"

"Instead of yourself."

Cala glared at his father's amused expression. "I thought the binding magic was stronger than any other. Why did it fail with her? Is it because she was not truly my one?"

"I'm sure she is. You said you felt the magic start. That is your proof. There exist past accounts of those whose lust and craving for fulfillment overrode the magical binding. It would seem that is what happened to you."

That was exactly what had happened. Cala remembered feeling an urging, like someone pulling on the reins of horse to slow it. He hadn't wanted slow at the time. He and his would-be mate had thundered on to climax after climax, wanting satisfaction more than the binding magic. As a result, they were lost to each other.

His ears drooped more. And there it was. He'd lost her. Billions of humans on the planet, millions in the country where she lived -- without her name, he would never find her.

He shouldn't have ignored the urge to take her, spirit her away to his home where the binding magic could have taken hold after they had exhausted themselves. They would have had time. Only the sounds of her friends searching had stopped him. It had never stopped any of his predecessors.

Zenobia Renquist
Discover Different and Unique Romance

  • Digg
  • StumbleUpon
  • Reddit
  • RSS

Station to Station by KC Kendricks (All Aboard PAX)

Released October 20, 2013

contemporary gay romance
available at Amber Allure

Scott Thomas welcomes the assignment when he’s is tagged to oversee the new commuter rail line from Easton to Marionville, a high profile project that demands expertise. His love of trains makes him a natural for the job. When a friend invites him on a Mystery Train Dinner Adventure, Scott’s onboard for an evening of fun. Scott gets more than he ever dreamed about when he meets his ideal tall, dark haired stranger on the train.

Dakota Reece views the new commuter rail as the opening he’s needed for him and his brother to build their own firm and future. Planning a start-up company while working on the commuter rail project is hard work and Dakota takes an evening off to relax on the Mystery Train. When the train stops to serve dinner, Dakota is boldly cruised by a fellow passenger. He has to get to know this smart, sexy man and asks Scott to join him for a drink.   

Scott and Dakota hit it off and a quiet cup of coffee leads to unexpected possibilities - and consequences. Their budding relationship could cause a multi-million dollar conflict of interest charge. When Dakota makes a sudden decision to advance his timeline, Scott will do whatever is necessary to keep them together, on track, and avoiding derailment. 

I pulled him off the rail and slipped my free hand around his waist. Raw awareness crackled between us, man to man, laden with male pheromones and a shared knowledge we innately knew how to make the other moan with pleasure. I wanted to be sure and kissing him was the most expedient way to strike a spark - or not. 

My guess about his height had been right on and he was just a tick shorter than me. It made kissing him easy. I pressed my lips to his, just a quick, soft touch that turned clingy when neither of us seemed to want to back off. He met me with an open eagerness that threatened to buckle my knees and we never parted our lips. My body responded and the sudden aching pooling of blood in my groin convinced me I needed to pull away before I got completely stupid with this guy in plain view of anyone who walked out the door. 

Okay so I kissed him. Okay so we’d go have a drink and get to know each other. That didn’t mean I would fuck him tonight. No taste of sweet titillation in that. 

Dakota smiled at me. “That was nice. If you won’t have a drink with me, I’ll probably cry myself to sleep.”

“For the record, I don’t buy that line for a moment…”


The back room beckoned and only he and I would know.

“I’m afraid so, but look on the bright side. We’re getting to know each other.”

Dakota leaned back and grinned. “Ah, courtship. It’s a fine concept but I don’t care for the practical applications.”

I didn’t either. We’d hit it off, and our one kiss had sparked some serious carnal curiosity between us. Moving forward on a personal level hinged on the sex being good. It was shallow, but true. I met his gaze and watched his eyes go dark. He fixed me with the intense stare of a gay man on the prowl. We’d wait but only because our dicks hadn’t overtaken our brains yet. I licked my lips and watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. 

“So are you still brave enough for dinner tomorrow night?”

“Wild horses couldn’t keep me away, Scott.”

We exchanged cell phone numbers and discussed restaurants and agreed to meet at a little Italian place out toward Easton. We might be observed, but having dinner together wasn’t the same as sleeping together. Dakota finished his coffee and pushed the mug away. 

“I guess we should call it a night, huh?”

“It is past midnight.”

He reached for my hand again. “We’re having dinner together tonight.”

“Technically, yes.” I stared into his eyes as I lifted his hand to kiss his knuckles. His lips parted. 

“My room is two blocks from here, Scott. Whataya say?”

My resolve to keep stupidity at bay wavered. Hell, it crumbled and I was about to tread over the broken pieces of it on my way out the door to his place. 

The letters awarding the bids were already in sealed envelopes in a locked drawer in the mayor’s office. How much flak could there be if someone found out Dakota and I had a little tryst? I nodded and saw victory flash in his eyes. I downed the last of my lukewarm coffee and pushed back from the table. “Let’s go.”

Dakota rose in an easy, unhurried motion and dropped a five-dollar bill on the table for a tip. “I like a man full of surprises.”

I’m not sure I did when I was that man. I motioned at the exit. “Lead on.”

Instead of heading out, he stepped in front of me and cupped the back of my neck. His mouth covered mine and my skin flashed hot. I licked his lips and they opened to me. His silky tongue slid over mine and my cock swelled to an aching fullness in three throbbing heartbeats. My hands went to his hips and I pulled him tight against me to let him feel how hard I was for him, and to know if he was hard for me. His lips bowed under mine as he ended the kiss and rested his forehead to mine. 

“That’s for you.”

ISBN-13: 978-1-61124-503-5
contemporary gay romance
available at Amber Allure

This title is part of The Men of Marionville series.
Learn more at

Also Available:
Contemporary gay romance
#1 Bestseller at Amber Allure, August 2013
Confirmed Bestseller at All Romance eBooks, September 2013
available now at

KC Kendricks
website at:
blog "Between the Keys":
mailing list at:

  • Digg
  • StumbleUpon
  • Reddit
  • RSS

NEW RELEASE - ONE PERFECT NIGHT - m/m contemporary adult R

One Perfect Night
by Christiane France

ISBN-13: 978-1-61124-502-8 (Electronic)

Paul knew Nico was special the moment they exchanged that first glance at Termini station in Rome late one hot summer afternoon. And when it was announced their train had been cancelled and travel suspended until further notice, they explored their feelings over dinner and spent one perfect night of passion in a nearby hotel.

Early next morning, when Nico found a flight cancellation and took off, all Paul knew about him was his first name.

Two years later, Paul hasn’t forgotten Nico, and now when they meet again at another train station in London, the chemistry is still there. Nico believes Fate brought them together, and is ready to close his eyes and jump into a relationship. Paul, however, believes they need to be sensible, to first check the water and then take it one step at a time. Which man’s strategy will prevail?

NOTE: This story is part of the London Calling series. (This title is also part of the ALL ABOARD AmberPax Collection.)

Genres: Gay / Contemporary / Exhibitionism / Public Places / Series
Heat Level: 3
Length: Novella (20k words)

Read a short excerpt...

...As I put down the roll and reached for the sugar to add to my coffee, I heard someone say my name. I didn’t recognize the voice, and Paul was a common enough name. I looked up anyway—then stared. “Nico?”

My stomach did a weird backflip, and I sucked in a quick gulp of air.

He dropped into the chair across from me, looking as surprised as I was myself.

“I’m imagining this, right?”

“If you are, then so am I.” What started as a smile turned to laughter and he reached across the table and grasped my hand. “My God! It really is you. This is crazy. I just came back from High Wycombe, and I thought I saw you getting off the same train.”

“You’re kidding?” I continued to stare at him, trying to collect my scattered wits and work my way through the shock. The hardest part was convincing myself this was real. That I wasn’t dreaming, hallucinating, or I hadn’t somehow got caught up in a bad case of wishful thinking. “I was on that train, too. In fact, I thought I saw you while I was waiting on the platform in Wycombe station. Then you disappeared, so I figured—”

“You were seeing things?” He smiled and shook his head. “I wondered that myself when I got off the train just now. I had to make sure, so I followed you over here, but then…

“Then what?”

His eyes seemed a little misty and he squeezed my hand, hard. “I waited outside for a few minutes. It looked so much like you. I was sure but I wasn’t sure, if you know what I mean. I didn’t want to make an idiot of myself. It’s been two years since we met at Termini and we were only together for a very short time.”

I smiled. “I know. And most of it we spent in the dark.”

A faint blush moved up his neck and into his face, and I wondered if he still had the white tan line an inch or so below his hips.

“That’s true. God! I hated leaving you, Paul. But I swear, I had no choice. I had to grab that flight cancellation. It was the only way I could get to Brussels in time. My brother was getting married and I was his best man. He’d have killed me if I hadn’t shown up.”

“So what made you come in here and check?”

He relaxed his grip on my hand, then tightened it again. “I needed to know. I figured if I made a mistake, so what?”

He hesitated, looking unsure or embarrassed, I didn’t know quite which. Maybe a little of both.

He tried for a smile that didn’t quite happen. “You’ll probably think I’m a wacko or I need to get myself a life. The truth is I’ve never been able to get you out of my mind. Crazy as it might sound, I’ve never stopped hoping that one day this would happen. If I’d known your last name, where you lived or worked, some significant small detail to go on, I’d have found you by now.”

Emotion blocked my throat and I swallowed hard. “If we’d been thinking we’d have exchanged phone numbers or something. We didn’t, but that’s okay. I haven’t forgotten you, either,” I said quietly. I drank in the handsome face, the eyes that were the same dark brown as mine, and the trace of five o’clock shadow that made him look even sexier than I remembered. I wanted so much to touch his face, to hold him and to kiss him, and… “Some people you forget five minutes after you meet them and some you do never do. No matter how hard you try, they’re always there at the edge of your mind...”

Cool mysteries and hot romance -



  • Digg
  • StumbleUpon
  • Reddit
  • RSS

BULL (Preorder for Oct 29th)

BULL (Red, Hot & Blue, Book 10) by Cat Johnson

When the going gets tough, the tough go out with a bang…
Spec Op “Bull” Ford is as big as his nickname. His team, the civilians he protects, whether they know it or not, all depend on him. But beneath his stony exterior beats the heart of a caring man—unless he’s crossed.
Between her job as professional harpist and fending off an ex-boyfriend who won’t take the hint, Marly feels like a circus juggler. She doesn’t need some oversized, overzealous security guard accusing her of being a terrorist—as if a five-foot-nothing woman in a ball gown could threaten anyone.
Though when the real terrorists strike, she’s more than grateful to have Bull at her side…or on top, which certainly makes what could be her last breaths memorable.
But after Bull takes the brunt of the explosion, Marly is left with feelings for a man who doesn’t remember who she is. And by the time the red-hot memories come flooding back, the trail to her heart may have gone cold.
Warning: Contains explosive sexual encounters—literally!

“What are you looking for, sweetheart?” The deep voice vibrated through her back and into her. He pulled them both to the wall and flipped on the lights with one elbow. A small, high window interrupted one wall. Reflected in its glass she saw the hulk she’d noticed before.
He spun her around and the hand over her mouth moved and grabbed her chin. She stared up into blue eyes narrowed in anger. He was big. She’d dated men who were six feet tall before, her ex John being one of them. Marly had found tall guys tended to like petite women, she didn’t know why. Maybe it made them feel even bigger. Who knew? But this guy—he was well over six feet tall. He was broad too, and from the feel of him it wasn’t fat. He was solid muscle. If he didn’t seem to want to crush her with his bare hands, she’d say he was attractive. She was having trouble getting past the murderous expression though. It kind of took away from her admiration of his overall physical appearance.
“I asked you a question.” He shook her, his hands clamped tightly around her upper arms.
“I came to get my bag.” What the hell was going on? Did he think she’d come to assassinate whomever he was protecting? It was easy enough to prove she hadn’t. There was nothing more dangerous in her bag than her tuning key. She could maybe jab the point of that in somebody’s eye, but that’s about it.
His gaze moved to her bag on the floor. “Really. Why don’t we see what you’ve got in there?”
He tucked her under one arm and half dragged, half carried her toward the bag. Her feet hardly touched the floor along the way. With his one free hand, he dumped the contents of the bag onto the canvas harp cover.
She hissed as she watched her brand new forty-dollar electronic tuner spill out onto the floor. “Careful.”
His eyes opened wide and he drew in a sharp breath of his own. “I bet you want me to be careful. Shit. Matt, I think I’ve found the detonator.”
“Matt?” What the hell was he talking about? Marly shook her head. “My name’s not Matt.”
There was a good chance she was being held in a closet by a madman, and all she could think about was if her new tuner was broken. When she got out of this mess, she was seriously going to reevaluate her priorities. She reached for the device to make sure it was all right, but he didn’t let her even get close to it. The brute grabbed her wrist hard enough he would probably leave a bruise.
Her heart beat faster. She was in real danger here. But the bruiser had made one mistake. He’d uncovered her mouth. She intended on taking full advantage of that. She pulled in a lungful of air and got ready to scream.
He slapped a hand over her mouth, harder than he had the first time. He was so big he covered the entire lower half of her face with one hand. He squeezed her mid-section with his other arm until all the air she had taken in came out of her nose and mouth in a whoosh between his fingers.
“I don’t like screaming. Don’t try that again.” The growl in his voice sent her pulse speeding.
Always nice to know your killer’s preferences. She sincerely hoped she wouldn’t offend him if she screamed while he murdered her. Marly became aware of his impressively large appendage pressing into her lower back. Maybe murder wasn’t what he had in mind.
She made a sound in her throat and pulled her pelvis as far away from him as she could get.
He chuckled, not an encouraging sound. “Don’t flatter yourself, sweetheart. It’s from the adrenaline. I get a hard-on when I kill people too…or even when I diffuse bombs.”
He said the last word with too much emphasis. She was going to end up blown to bits by this crazy man who got sexually excited by killing people, and he was probably going to rape her first.
Black spots appeared on the edge of her vision. Her last thought was it was better to be unconscious for whatever was about to happen.
 Buy Links and Read an alternate excerpt at:

Preorder on Amazon at

Available Now
BB DALTON (Free Read)
Coming Soon
BULL October
MATT November

  • Digg
  • StumbleUpon
  • Reddit
  • RSS

Blood Addict: Paranormal Romance, Menage and BDSM

A few weeks ago, when I started self-publishing my Paranormal Erotic Shorts, I announced that a number of these titles would be available in an upcoming anthology called Blood Addict.

Well, Blood Addict is no longer upcoming.  It has come.  It's here.  And it's got some seriously dark content... and some romance... and some extreme bondage... and... and... and...
Spanning the ages from medieval fairy tales to today's dark desires, there's a story to meet every sultry taste in this collection of paranormal romance, menage and BDSM stories.


A jealous God keeps wicked Eve in a cage while a mountain monk guards his chastity with similar restraints. Recovering vampires fall to temptation when they find a cutter who claims to hold the cure. A Gothic mesmerist meets his demons in a repressed patient's nightmares. Twelve men fall to an enchantress’ curse while a sea creature drags an Inuit woman beneath the ice. A husband keeps his thirst for blood secret to protect his wife, and an office romance blossoms between an employee and his succubus boss.

Eight paranormal erotic tales from award-winning author Giselle Renarde.

Warnings: This collection features graphic language and explicit sex between monk and maiden, hypnotist and succubus, virgins, vampires, monsters and men.

Contains: A Jealous God, Jungfrau, Blood Addict, The Mesmerist and the Mare, Princess of the Ravens, Beneath the Ice, Simple, and Neither Love Nor Money


Did she turn him around or did he do that himself? He couldn’t remember anymore. Somehow he ended up facing her. She tore off his tie with one hand while she found his cock with the other. How did she manage to zero in like that? Just wham! She had it in her fist, stroking hard through the fabric of his trousers.

Max knew Detta wouldn’t be gentle. He’d seen the violence in her, right from the start. She man-handled him, strong, tough, and she stood nearly his height in those fuck-me heels.

She only let go of his cock to bind his wrists behind him—and with his own tie, to boot. When she pressed him against the sideboard, he worried he might ruin one of the catalogue mock-ups, but if she didn’t care why should he? So he pressed his head against the glossy board while Bernadetta tore open his shirt.

Buttons went flying, sailing to the floor in slow motion. Each mother-of-pearl droplet settled like rain on the industrial carpet. He was so mesmerized by the subtle shimmer that he almost didn’t notice Detta ripping his belt from its loops. When she tossed it around her shoulders, it morphed into a black snake. Were his eyes playing tricks on him, or did his belt hiss while his boss opened his fly?

Max’s pants dropped to the floor with the weight of his wallet, his keys, and his merciless arousal.

Now available from:


And if you'd rather purchase your tales individually, a variety of paranormal erotic shorts are available  from retailers like Barnes and Noble and All Romance ebooks! The series name is Paranormal Erotic Shorts.

Giselle Renarde
Canada just got hotter!

Visit me online

  • Digg
  • StumbleUpon
  • Reddit
  • RSS

Neither Love Nor Money: Succubus, Bondage, Erotic Romance

All week I've been telling you about new paranormal ebooks.  Today's title first appeared in the Cleis anthology Seductress, a collection of succubus stories.  Mine's got a BDSM edge, and now you can grab it for $0.99:

Detta's employees like to spread vicious rumors about their boss sleeping her way to the top.  They don't know how right they are, and neither does the Detta's new pet, Max, until she seduces him while they're working late.  She ties him up to show him just how much power a succubus can wield over a man, but there's a hitch: Detta falls for Max, so hard she can't conceive of stealing his essence.  Without the energy she needs, Detta fades fast.  Will Max do what's necessary to make her well again?  

Warnings: This short story contains bondage, femdom, succubus sex, and paranormal office romance.  Appears in the anthology "Blood Addict."   

Word Count: 3,500


Did she turn him around or did he do that himself?  He couldn’t remember anymore.  Somehow he ended up facing her.  She tore off his tie with one hand while she found his cock with the other.  How did she manage to zero in like that?  Just wham! She had it in her fist, stroking hard through the fabric of his trousers.

Max knew Detta wouldn’t be gentle.  He’d seen the violence in her, right from the start.  She man-handled him, strong, tough, and she stood nearly his height in those fuck-me heels.

She only let go of his cock to bind his wrists behind him—and with his own tie, to boot.  When she pressed him against the sideboard, he worried he might ruin one of the catalogue mock-ups, but if she didn’t care why should he?  So he pressed his head against the glossy board while Bernadetta tore open his shirt.

Buttons went flying, sailing to the floor in slow motion.  Each mother-of-pearl droplet settled like rain on the industrial carpet.  He was so mesmerized by the subtle shimmer that he almost didn’t notice Detta ripping his belt from its loops.  When she tossed it around her shoulders, it morphed into a black snake.  Were his eyes playing tricks on him, or did his belt hiss while his boss opened his fly?

Max’s pants dropped to the floor with the weight of his wallet, his keys, and his merciless arousal.


Grab your copy from:


Coming soon to other retailers!

  • Digg
  • StumbleUpon
  • Reddit
  • RSS

Beneath the Ice: Sea Monster Erotica

Beneath the Ice

Sea monster, Inuit legend, paranormal erotica

By Giselle Renarde 

The sea monster Kaloopalooit lives in the cracks of ocean ice, devouring the children of the Arctic.

When Enooya bets her husband she's a better fisher than he is, she sets off unperturbed to the fissures in the sea ice. After all, the Kaloopalooit is just an imaginary monster the elders dreamed up to scare kids.

Enooya discovers just how real the Kaloopalooit is when it drags her into the icy water. The sea monster is beautiful and horrible, shimmering and bizarre. In exchange for breath, it demands that Enooya secure children for its dinner. Enooya has a better idea: Why not sample the delicacy called woman?

Beneath the Ice is an erotic adaptation of an Inuit folktale.  Appears in the anthology "Blood Addict."   

Word Count: 5,300


A creature burst from the giant hole, dreadful and beautiful. Its glistening scales shone so brilliantly Enooya had to shield her eyes. Its flesh glittered like fields of diamonds, gleaming with every shade of the ocean. It was blue as the blue whale, green as algae, turquoise as the southern coasts, and as silver as the Arctic char.

Before Enooya could make out anything beyond its dazzling colour, a slick tail coiled around her ankles. Her knees knocked together with a bony bang, sending streaks of pain down her legs. The coil tightened, slithering up her thighs, around the corpulence of her ass, slippery and smooth around her waist. She fell limp under the creature’s stranglehold. Her eyes shut. Her head tilted to one side, too heavy to hold upright.

The monstrous thing tugged so hard Enooya fell back with a thud. Her shoulder blades smacked the sea ice, making her ribs rattle.  Her skull met the surface, and for a moment, everything went black.

Enooya didn’t struggle, even when the evil creature dragged her feet-first into the frigid ocean.  It tugged her body toward the fissure, and there wasn’t a thing she could do to escape. It had her in its power.

Where can you find it?  How about:



Coffee Time Romance:

Coming soon to other retailers!

Giselle Renarde is a queer Canadian, avid volunteer, and contributor to more than 100 short story anthologies, including Best Women’s Erotica, Best Lesbian Erotica, Best Bondage Erotica, and Best Lesbian Romance. Ms Renarde has written dozens of juicy books, including Anonymous, Ondine, and Nanny State. Her book The Red Satin Collection won Best Transgender Romance in the 2012 Rainbow Awards. Giselle lives across from a park with two bilingual cats who sleep on her head.

  • Digg
  • StumbleUpon
  • Reddit
  • RSS

Princess of the Ravens: Shapeshifter Erotic Fairy Tale

A little birdie told me you just can't get enough paranormal erotica... so here's more!

Princess of the Ravens

by Giselle Renarde

When a girl child is born to the king's new queen, his sons must flee or face imminent death.  After many years in hiding, Verity tracks down her would-be brothers in a neighbouring kingdom.  As gifts for the twelve men, she plucks twelve enchanted lilies from a witch's garden.  Immediately, the men are turned to ravens.  According to the enchantress' spell, Verity must not make a sound for seven years or her brothers will die.

At once, Verity is found by a prince, who takes her home for his bride.  His mother shows the young girl mercy by confining her to a tower for seven years.  In that time, the raven Benjamin visits her daily.  When they learn to communicate without words, Benjamin reveals a secret that allows their love to blossom.  

Will Verity escape the arrogant prince, or be forced to wed?  How can a raven become her saviour?

Warnings: Princess of the Ravens is an erotic shapeshifter adaptation of the Brothers Grimm fairy tale "Twelve Brothers."  Appears in the anthology "Blood Addict."

Word Count: 5,300


Together, they counted down the days until Verity would be wed to the prince for whom she held no affection. “It is you I love,” she told her raven boy, in her way.  “How can I marry another?”

“Leave it to me,” he sang, and she smiled.  She knew she could trust him, just as she knew he saw every delectable imagining that entered her mind.  In that moment, she caught herself recollecting that this was the day of her birth, and she was now a woman in every sense.  As soon as the thought struck her, she knew she had conveyed it to Benjamin, and they both fell more silent than they had ever been with one another.

“Where do you go in the night?” she asked him, in silence.  “What do you do when you are not at my side?”

“In the night…” he crowed. “In the night, I am transformed. In the night, I am a man.”

Verity’s heart froze in her chest.  She recognized well the urges in her own body, and she could only imagine how it must be for Benjamin.  He was, after all, a “brutish man” as the waiting maids called them, and he was older, as well.  Must she dwell on the ideas of what he did in the night?  With other women?

Now available from Smashwords:
Coffee Time Romance:

Coming soon to more retailers!

  • Digg
  • StumbleUpon
  • Reddit
  • RSS

Dance for Daddy, Salome

 Taboo Erotica~Banned by Amazon

Dance for Daddy, Salome
by Lexi Wood

When Salome's mother marries Rod, Plain-Jane Sally falls head over heels for his son. They're only step-siblings, but John still thinks it would be wrong if they surrendered to temptation.

Right or wrong, Salome's got her sights set on her new step-brother, and she won't take no for an answer.

Rod isn't happy that his twenty-three-year-old son still lives in his basement. Now he's got a barely-legal step-daughter to support as well.  Worse yet, his new wife is forcing him to attend the girl's goddamn dance recital!

Onstage, the gangly teen transforms into a seductive stripper.  In a sexy little dance costume, Sally becomes the most seductive vixen Rod has ever seen.  There's no turning back.  He's going to bed his step-daughter if it kills him...

Warnings: This filthy book contains explicit sex and extreme 1970s outfits.  If you're not into step-Daddy/daughter erotica, adult step-siblings getting it on, or polyester pants, you'd better steer clear of Dance for Daddy, Salome.

Read an ADULT excerpt:

“Do we hafta go to this thing?”

Dia gazed at him in the dressing table mirror.  Her expression faded to disappointment.  “Rod, she’s my daughter.  What’s mine is yours.”

“Yeah, I know.”  That kid was bound to cramp their style.  They only just got married, and within a week he was being dragged to a goddamn dance recital?  Rod stared unapologetically at his wife’s incredible cleavage.  Jeeze Louise, you got great tits.”

Dia rolled her eyes as she clipped on earrings.  “No sense changing the subject.  You’re still coming to Sally’s recital.”

“Sure you don’t want to stay home instead?  We can have a little dance recital of our own.”

Circling his arms around her body, he dug her tits out of her dress.  When he squeezed those sweet melons, his dick stood at attention.  He stroked it against her ass, and she obviously felt it because her eyes rolled back in her head.  God, those tits!  He bounced them on his palms and her flesh jiggled.  He nipped her neck, and she moaned.


“Rod…”  Dia sounded tortured, and he knew she’d reached a tipping point.  But she tipped in the wrong direction, smacking him away.  “Rod, enough!”

“Aww, come on.”  He pulled up her skirt, but, shit, she had a slip on too.  “Just a quickie, since I’m in the mood?”

She kicked him in the shin.  “Not now.”

“Fuck, Dia, you didn’t have to get all physical.”

“Neither did you.”  She glared at him in the mirror.  After a long moment, a smile lit up her face.  “I’m not rejecting you, Rod, we just don’t have time.  Wait until tonight.  I’m gonna rock your world.”

“Not if I rock yours first.”  He ran his hands up and down the silky fabric of her dress.  Felt so good to have a wife again.  The worst thing in the world was going to bed at night and not smelling a woman’s hair on his pillow.  “I love you, Dia.”

“Aww, baby, I love you too.”  She turned her head and planted a sweet kiss on his lips.  “Hey, would you help me with this clasp?”

“These damn things are too fiddly for my fingers.”  He tried anyway, securing her necklace with surgical precision.  “And I don’t want you thinking I don’t care about your little girl.  Just, I’ve raised a daughter already.  I’ve seen about all the ballet recitals one man can handle.”

“Don’t worry, dear, it’s not ballet.”  Dia handed him a bracelet to put on next.  “I can’t stand all that fussy stuff either.”

* * * *

Rod shifted in his wooden seat.  Why were the chairs in these auditoriums so damn small?  His knee kept touching John’s.  Turning to Dia, he asked, “When do we get this show on the road?”

“Five more minutes, Mr. Impatient.”

“I don’t see your kid’s name in this here program.”  He held it between them.  “Did they miss her?”

“It’s right there,” Dia said, pointing to a name near the top.

“Salome?  That’s her name?  And I been calling her Sally all this time...”

“Sure, Sally for short.”  Dia chuckled to herself.  “My mother said she’d disown me if I didn’t give my child a biblical name.  It’s a wonder she didn’t disown me for having a child out of wedlock.  Sometimes people surprise you.”

“Hmm.”  Rod didn’t like thinking of his wife fucking other guys.  Made him want to toss his cookies.  But, hell, that would have been eighteen, nineteen years ago.

Dia started talking to the lady on her other side, and John stuck his nose in a book, as usual.  Rod felt claustrophobic, trapped between them.  All these people, all these chairs.  What if there was a fire?

He gazed at his step-daughter’s name in the program.  Kid didn’t look like a Salome.  Salome was a sexy name, a stripper name. Girls, Girls, Girls!  Curves, Curves, Curves!  Salome wasn’t a name for a twiggy stick bug with gangly hair and pimples.  Dia’s kid weren’t nothin’ to look at.

When the lights went down, Rod’s heart raced.  Music seemed to rise out of the floor, and a whole bunch of dancers hit the stage.  It sure wasn’t no ballet they were doing.  This was new stuff, Disco, all the rage.  They pointed and strutted.  Guys in suits fucked the air.  Girls got brazen under the mirror ball.

Stupid dance shit.

Rod looked for Dia’s kid, but didn’t see her.  Maybe the girl wasn’t in this number.  He tried to divert his mind to something else.  How long until this goddamn show was over?

He slid his hand up Dia’s thigh, but she smacked it away.

Maybe he could play a game—a game called If I Could Only Fuck One Dancer, Who Would It Be?

None of them girls with the short hair.  Nah, they looked too much like guys.  He wanted a girl like Dia, with wide hips and nice tits, but none of these dancers looked like that.  A few leggy blondes caught his eye.  Hell, what man could resist a leggy blonde?  And he wouldn’t mind riding the chick with the ‘fro—she had a butt that wouldn’t quit.

But if he could only pick one out of the entire crowd?  Well, he’d go with the girl in that sparkling silver dress.  She’d be down with it, for sure.  Any woman in a dress that short was guaranteed to be a floozy.  Every time she kicked, he got a peek at her panties, and they were silver too.  A girl like that was just begging for it.

As he watched her slim hips gyrate, his cock filled his pants.  He squirmed in his seat, because the seam was cutting into him, but his squirming drew Dia’s evil eye.  Sitting still, he covered his crotch nonchalantly with his programs and tried to adjust himself.

When the number ended, the auditorium burst into over-eager applause.  Family and friends were always too generous.  The dancing hadn’t been that great.

Dia leaned in close and asked, “Wasn’t Sally stunning?”

“Oh, sure.”  No way he was about to admit he couldn’t pick his own step-daughter out of a crowd.

Leaning across Rod’s lap, Dia asked John, “Are you feeling all right, dear?”

Rod hadn’t noticed that his son wasn’t clapping.  Kid’s arms were crossed over his chest and, without looking at Dia, he snapped, “I’m fine.”

Strange behaviour, for John.  He usually went in for this artsy bullshit.

Dance numbers came and went, but they didn’t capture Rod’s imagination.  He kept watching for the girl in the silver dress.  Even with his beautiful wife at his side, he found himself craving young pussy.  Craving the girl with the silver panties.

And there she was!

When the lights came up on a sexy scene, Rod did a double take.  Was that girl naked?  No, couldn’t be… couldn’t be… but the silver dress was gone.  And the silver panties.

Two dancers kneeled together on heaps of velvet pillows, offset by barely and arm’s length.  The sexy mama with the ‘fro was on her knees, just a touch behind the sweet thing with the long, dark hair.

What were they wearing?  If only he’d brought binoculars.  Were those flesh-toned bikinis?  Yeah, mesh string bikinis with sparkly rhinestones, which caught the light as the girls gyrated in unison.

This wasn’t like any dance Rod had ever seen.  He didn’t know what you’d call it.  Modern, maybe?  Seemed better suited to a strip club than a dance hall, and the music was straight out of a porno film.  He didn’t feel exactly comfortable watching this show of rippling flesh with his new wife at one side and his son at the other, but he couldn’t take his eyes off that dancer.

As it turned out, John was even more uncomfortable than Rod, because he stormed from his seat, stepping over eight sets of knees to get out the aisle.  Normally, Rod would have followed his son—any excuse to get out of a dance recital!—but he remained transfixed.

Dia was just the same.  She didn’t even seem to notice that John had left in a huff.

The girls on stage waved their hands over their heads, snapping their fingers, smiling coquettishly at the audience, and at each other.  Their hips circled around.  Their bare bellies waved like the ocean.  Up and down, like they were each straddling a lover, like they were fucking invisible men right there on stage.  Their motions were lewd, pornographic. Rod couldn’t look away.

Stage lights picked up body glitter on their chests and thighs when they launched into a modified mash-potato, like they were beating their invisible lovers with their fists.  What Rod wouldn’t give to get under those girls!  His cock strained so hard against his pants he worried his erection would tear out his fly.  He could just imagine his insistent dick ripping through the seams, expanding unbound until it filled the entire auditorium.  That’s how huge he felt, watching those girls dance.

Dance—if you’d call it that.

He couldn’t stand the sheer physical pressure.  His cock had grown into a Thanksgiving belly, threatening to rupture if he didn’t unbuckle his belt.

As the girl with the ‘fro traced her long fingers across the other dancer’s glittering skin, Rod unzipped his fly.  His desperate cock flew out, whacking the program that served as a shield.  He glanced over his shoulder, trying to be subtle, but everyone in the theatre watched slack-jawed as the two girls turned and touched.

The dancers mirrored each other, stretching their arms over their heads as they wagged their pert asses.  Rod’s precum soaked the program.  His body, mind, and spirit lived inside his dick.

Wrapping his fist around his shaft, he imagined it was the girl on stage.  The girl with the long, dark hair.  Those were her little fingers clinging to his dick.  Maybe she’d circle both hands around it and pump with all her might.  She’d look at his raging erection like she’d never seen anything so huge in all her life.

She’d say, “I don’t think it’ll fit inside me, Mister.  It’s just too big.”

“Let’s find out,” he’d say, grabbing her hips.

He’d pull her body down on his.  She’d shriek wildly as he filled her wet cunt with his massive shaft.  He could just imagine how tight she’d be.  Her sweet young pussy would wrap around him like a warm hug.

Rod squeezed harder, pretending his fist was the dancer’s pussy.  He watched her writhe against the other girl.  The way the stage lights struck them, he was pretty sure he could see their erect nipples through the glittering mesh bikinis.  Their bodies rippled.  They drew closer and closer together, until pink tits touched dark ones.  Their small breasts teased him beyond sensation.  He couldn’t bear much more of this.

And then the two girls bobbed their heads forward, like they were about to kiss, and Rod’s thighs trembled against the hard wooden seat.  Just as their pretty pink lips were about to touch, they swooped their heads to either side.  Hooking their chins around each other’s shoulders, they raised their backs and then their arms, like birds in flight.

Damn, they were gorgeous.

Could he stroke off without arousing suspicion?  The program concealed his cock.  He could feel the smoothness of the paper against his engorged tip.  Maybe if he beat off slow and hard he’d make it to the finish line without Dia noticing.  She couldn’t seem to take her eyes off the dancers any more than he could.

No more fooling around.  He circled his thumb and forefinger around his slick head and teased it.  His hand was a pussy—that little vixen’s pussy—and he was gonna punish it so hard she’d walk funny for a week.

As the girls touched and teased, playing nipples off nipples, Rod fuelled his orgasm with friction.  He fucked his hand, or his hand fucked him, until his balls clenched.  He felt warm all over.  His throat closed up.  As those two agile dancers collapsed in a heap of velvet cushions, hot jizz filled his program.

The lights went down as the awestruck audience broke madly into applause.  Thank god for the darkness, because Dia certainly would have recognized Rod’s orgasm face if she’d seen him in that moment.

By the time the lights came up on the next number, he’d regained a certain amount of composure and zipped his spent cock back into his trousers.

He was about to lean in and tell Dia, “I can’t wait to get you home,” when she spoke to him, instead.

“Wasn’t Sally spellbinding?”

“Huh?” Rod glared at the stage, but the disco dancers all had short hair.  Sally wasn’t up there.  “Where?  When?”

Dia cocked her head, like she didn’t understand him.  “In that last routine…”


If you want to buy Lexi's book, it's available from:
eXcessica EDEN:

Barnes & Noble:





  • Digg
  • StumbleUpon
  • Reddit
  • RSS