I am so excited to share this with you, lovelies. One of my best friends, Livia Grant, has been having difficulties finishing her insanely complicated book, ‘Black Light: Scandalized’. So what can a good friend do but suggest they take a break and write something TOTALLY hot, naughty, and completely off-genre to help clear out the writers block bugs. Not only did she do it, she did it very well and now has a new pen name to go along with the new genre!
Introducing USA Today Bestselling Author Livia Grant, writing as Livia Bourne! Her debut story was released yesterday and this HAWT omegaverse story is going to burn up the charts. It is so totally different from her typical story style, I can’t wait for everyone to read it which is why I HAD to use it as this week’s Teaser Thursday!
* * *
Khalil and his elite team of Alpha warriors are strong, honorable, and completely bored babysitting their princess on a peacekeeping mission. Although the disobedient, sassy female Zahara does make things interesting for Khalil – until everything goes wrong.
Attacked. Abducted from their spaceship. Caged.
The Trakonians are the most vile and dangerous males in the galaxy, and they have developed their greatest weapon, a drug called Fragment with multiple devious forms. One that brings insanity, one that freezes you in place with pain… and the worst of all, ‘heat.’
This time the enemy doesn’t just want to kill them, they want to use Khalil’s team of Alphas for entertainment. Driven into a crazed rut by the chemical heat, there is no way to resist, no way to be honorable, and the vulnerable females from their ship are going to suffer.
* * *
Her strikingly vibrant eyes widened as she recognized him. The flash of fear he saw there satisfied him. If she could read his mind, she’d understand how very afraid of him she should be.
Prior to this interaction, he’d only thought about stripping her of her flowing frock, bending her over the nearest piece of furniture, and burying his neglected cock deep in her sheath in one thrust. She was the kind of female an Alpha like him wouldn’t be able to resist knotting.
Tonight, due to her disobedience, he added the vision of stripping her bare and tying her down first so she could take ten lashes with his punishment loop just before he thrust inside her. He suspected she would scream so beautifully.
Khalil came to a halt in the middle of the corridor, making it impossible for her to pass. He could see indecision on her flushing face as she debated turning and running the other way.
“You defied me.”
Her answer was delayed as she searched for an acceptable answer. Little did she know there was no acceptable answer. The only thing that would be saving her from feeling the sting of his punishment loop on her bare skin was her civilian status.
“I was hungry, and… I needed to do some research on the vid-link in the communication pod.”
“Evening meal was provided earlier and you have a vid-screen in your suite. There was no reason for your disobedience.”
A flash of anger made her bright eyes an impossibly deeper blue as she retorted, “I am not your pet. Nor am I under your command.”
Zahara tried to step around him, but he reached to grab her upper arms, halting her in her tracks. “The hell you’re not.” Their bodies were flush against each other as he towered over her, several heads higher than she was. He waited for her to crane her neck back enough to look him in his eyes. “Everything on the Viper is under my command.”
Khalil detected her breaths becoming short as her dainty nose flared with anger. Instead of intimidating him, her misplaced anger only made his Alpha blood flood to his cock. His body was long past due for a visit to the female companion center.
“Let me pass. I am returning to my chambers.”
“Where you should have never left.” Zahara lifted her chin as she bravely confronted him. “Why are you so worried about my safety
onboard your vessel? Do you not have control over the Alphas in your command? Are they feral, ready to mount any female that is in their presence?”
He squeezed her arms harder.
“Do not challenge me. My men are honorable, but they have also been away from the… female comforts… of home for a long time.”
She had begun wiggling in his grip, attempting to get away from the growing erection he did not bother to hide from her. If he frightened her, all the better. Maybe next time she would obey him. Or better yet, maybe the next time he’d actually be able to show her exactly who was in charge.
He waited to see the flicker of fear take up residence in her heated gaze before he extended his arms, pushing their bodies apart, but not releasing her… yet.
“Now, I will escort you to your chambers where you will remain until the morning meal. I expect to be obeyed. If you choose to ignore my directions in the future, you will discover how I reinforce my command.”
* * *
I absolutely love the new brand, done by the amazing Laura Hidalgo who is an absolute wizard with graphics. If you like sci-fi or omegaverse, this is definitely a book you want to pick up. While you are at it, go give Livia’s pages a little love to encourage her to keep writing ‘Scandalized’!
Livia Bourne is the alter ego of USA Today Bestselling author, Livia Grant. With the Bourne books, you’ll still be getting the same raw, gritty romances that will take you to the edge of your seat, but these stories will be out of this world…literally.
Look at me, I got a #MusicMonday AND a #TeaserTuesday up in the same week. If that isn’t winning on the authorlandia front, I don’t know what is. I am waiting for some really important news that will either be really good or really bad, so bear with me lovelies. Life may just throw me a curve ball yet again.
But let’s focus on the good stuff! Jane Henry had a new release of ‘The Bratva’s Bride’ and she absolutely kills the mafia romance genre. Super sexy, dark, and simply amazing, if you haven’t picked this up yet you absolutely need to.
* * *
The Bratva’s Bride
Bratva life is simple:
You steal from the brotherhood, you pay with your life.
But the thief is a woman, and she’s too beautiful to die.
My wedding band will be her collar.
Our vows will be her shackles.
She will be my captive bride.
* * *
What?” she asks, frowning. I don’t like her tone of voice and wonder what’s gotten into her. “You know I know some Russian,” she says. “Don’t you? Tell him I’m ready.”
She grows too free with her speech.
“She’ll be ready,” I tell them, though my gaze is fixed on her.
“I think you should nail Amronov’s wife,” Vladak tells me with a smirk. “And she’ll make sure you get what you need.” Calina tenses.
I scowl at him, and no one laughs. Fucking the Prime Minister’s wife is a good way of getting assassinated.
“Why not?” Filip asks. Maksym sits with his arms crossed, and says nothing. He was the one that alerted me to the fact that Amaranov’s wife asked for me, but he doesn’t approve of this plan. I don’t like it either. There’s something unsettling about it.
I watch Calina’s knuckles whiten when she fists them in her lap.
She heard the other men suggesting I sleep with Amronov’s wife and she doesn’t like it.
“I have better means of getting what I want,” I tell them and Calina has the gall to snort derisively.
“Perhaps she isn’t sufficiently trained,” I tell them, a clear warning to her.
She lifts her face and juts out her chin. “Sufficiently trained?” she snaps.
The room grows quiet. My men expect her to obey me, and she’s anything but obedient right now.
“Enough, Calina,” I warn, but she doesn’t heed my admonition.
“I don’t know,” she says, her voice rising. “Maybe you need to snap a metal collar around my neck. Take me for a walk so I can pee in your garden. Perhaps if you—”
But she doesn’t get any further. When I rise from my chair, panic flits across her features and she bites her lip. She knows she’s in trouble. She knows she’s crossed a line. What she doesn’t know is how badly I want to punish her with an audience. How my cock aches with the knowledge of what she’s pushed me to do. It seems last night’s lesson didn’t make the impact it should have. I shouldn’t have given her the attention afterward. Or perhaps she simply needs a further demonstration.
I take her firmly by the arm, yank her to standing, and haul her bodily over the table while my men watch in stoic silence. Papers flutter to the floor. No one says a word. None are amused. They know what’s at stake.
None even flinch when I slam my palm across her ass. They’re an audience of soldiers who would lose respect for me if I didn’t do just this. If I didn’t teach her a lesson in obedience for all to see. If I’ve taught them well, any one of them would do what I have to do now.
“Demyan,” she protests. “Please! I’m sorry,” But I ignore her complaints and push her flat across the table with a firm palm on her lower back. I crook a finger to Maksym, since he’s the largest, strongest man in our company.
With a scowl, he rises. Though Maksym has a tender spot, he knows what’s on the line. He’d be the first one to tell me to punish her, so when I give my order he doesn’t flinch.
“Hold her down,” I instruct.
* * *
OMG is that HAWT or what?! Hell yes I have this on my TBR and I can’t wait to dive into it. I could use a seriously hot story to distract me from life and this is fitting the bill perfectly.
I hope to have more information for you lovelies shortly. Keep your fingers crossed that good news comes my way so I can finally finish ‘Redemption’. One day at a time, and all, but I really want to finish this story!
USA Today bestselling author Jane Henry pens stern but loving alpha heroes, feisty heroines, and emotion-driven happily-ever-afters. She writes what she loves to read: kink with a tender touch. Jane is a hopeless romantic who lives on the East Coast with a houseful of children and her very own Prince Charming.
Things have been crazy, lovelies. If you have been in my Dark Haven, you saw my live videos of my trip in Seattle. Which was amazing! The trip home, however, wasn’t and it took me 24 hours to get home thanks to the insane Dallas weather and flights being cancelled and delayed over and over. Add the stress of my mom not responding well to treatment and kiddo reacting to that, things have been difficult.
BUT! I realized I hadn’t done a Teaser Tuesday and I could NOT just ignore Addison Cain’s new release, ‘Ravaged Captive’ so I am bringing it to you now. This book is SOO filthy and I just fucking adore Addison’s writing. Her Omegaverse world building is second to none and if you haven’t started the story of Wren, you absolutely have to grab it. With three hot, sexy Alphas all fighting over their claim of Wren, this story will scorch your kindle!
* * *
The ultimate sacrifice…
Drenched in wealth and power, Caspian holds my city by the throat. No man or woman denies him, not even me.
But he owes me a debt I intended to collect.
Our trade was fair–my submission to his pack for the lives of my wards.
Pleasure, willing female attention, affection, he’s starved for such things. Starved for me.
And though he may have tricked me into his bed, he will never have what I know he longs for most. My heart.
Not so long as he holds the lives of my family hostage.
* * *
Silk. Spider silk as pale as moonlight caught Caspian in a web he’d gladly tangle around his limbs. Around his cock. Fuck, it would feel incredible stroking his cock.
Running over his hips while he pushed her head down his shaft.
Their last mating had been vulgar in its transience. One frenzied thrust before the knot he’d fought to produce for a goddamn week burst forth. Flooding her so soon had left the taste of heaven on his tongue, even if she had been coated in filth, and stinking of sickness.
Tasting her now, blood pumped into an overly swollen cock, the teeth of his zipper barely contained what pulsated and wept. Had Rosie’s lips been stretched around such girth as Caspian had watched the pretty mouse eat, he would have cum each time the female sighed. He would have broken Rosie’s jaw with his knot when the mouse moaned.
As it was, an astonishing amount of fluid had built up in his sack. It felt as if it sloshed when he pressed closer to his greatest treasure, that it churned. Had his pants not held back his prick, it would have bounced with each pulse of blood in his veins.
He was going to hurt his mouse. There was no stopping it.
Not after the hours Caspian had let build between them. Not after her sweet sighs over the feast he’d provided.
For two full days Kieran had been allowed to keep her despite neglecting his duties.
For good reason. Caspian wanted his mouse to be grateful to return to her true owner, her First owner. He wanted to measure her expression of relief when the handsome one no longer had first claim.
It was so rare a victory Caspian might lord over his Second.
Mission accomplished. Kieran reeked of covetous agitation and his mouse had indeed arrived no longer wearing the betrayal that had pinched her brows when last he’d been buried in her.
Two days with the cruelest of them had washed her clean of her animosity, but not of Kieran’s scent… or the Second’s terrible choice in clothing.
That fucking dress covering his mouse was the stuff of nightmares. Where Kieran had even found a garment like that down here, Caspian could only imagine. His whores sure as hell didn’t sport matronly shit.
This was the costume old mated Alphas demanded their Omegas wear in public. The dress of a wife who was to be acknowledged but not physically appreciated by others. Breeding Omegas only displayed their beauty for their mates.
If it was a joke, Kieran lacked the quirk to his smile usually accompanying his tricks. Instead his body language was aggressive—fists balled, jaw clenched, his green-eyed glare on the female obediently allowing Caspian the feel of her mouth.
Until that covetous gaze drifted to where Caspian stared even while sampling the parted lips of his mouse.
Fingers slipping to cradle the back of her skull, Caspian played the gentle lover a few moments longer, measuring the Second’s reaction. Amazed, he found blatant challenge in his subordinate’s low, unguarded growl.
Breaking from kiss-reddened lips, from an enticed female bearing half-conquered slowly expanding pupils, the First met the unspoken challenge. “Kieran?”
“I’ll watch.” Gruff, lacking all proper deference, his Second widened his stance.
After delivering her still reeking of Kieran’s cum, there was no fucking way such behavior would be rewarded.
Hell, even Toby had been removed from the equation for this calculated reunion—sent off with the perfect prey. Down in the bowels of the pipeworks, the Third was creaming his pants tormenting the instigator of a sorry power grab.
The failed assassin would be an interesting corpse to view once the Third was done with him—for aside from the sweet scent wafting from the slickening pussy before him, Toby’s greatest joy lay in well-thought-out torture.
Acquiescing when Caspian drew her head to his chest, his mouse inhaled deeply, nosing his chest in the exact way he both adored and despised. Flawless female submission before Kieran, her obvious enjoyment of his scent—despite any unpurged anger—led Caspian to smile.
His rugged, scarred face, the wrinkles collected at the corners of his eyes, she preferred him anyway. And she always had.
This Caspian broadcasted in the meanness of his grin. In the blatant demand of his glare.
At her little noise once his scent hit the back of her throat, another wave of backed up seed inflated his sack, threatened to break down his cock. Caspian growled, dominant, virile, and already lost completely to the rut. “Leave.”
There was a reason Kieran held the rank of Second. He was not one to be fucked with. “I hold second claim.”
Cock twitching, bleeding precum to the point his trousers and the Omega’s belly were sticky with fluid, Caspian fisted the Omega’s glorious hair. Baring her covered throat to his lips, he licked where her jaw met the unpierced lobe of an ear, watching his Second’s every tick. “No one challenged that point.”
Teeth clenched, eye twitching, Kieran stated a tired fact. “Our agreement was that I breed her in estrous.”
“She’s not in estrous.” More importantly, there was a little doll made up to look like the mouse. A doll tucked away in the pen who’d make the breeding of another female impossible so long as she lived… unless she was in the room and made to participate.
No bonded Alpha could dump working sperm in another pussy. Kieran had to know that after these last days hording the mute Omega away. He’d probably had difficulty even knotting, grown frustrated with her.
Brow cocked, chin nuzzling the top of the silent mouse’s head, Caspian added, “Toby refuses to allow other females near our mate. You’d have to kill the doll you paid for.”
And there was always the fact that once Toby got his crack at the estrous high mouse, once he fully forged a pair-bond, his gushing prick would rinse out and destroy any defunct remnants left by another male. Kieran would not have his way in this. Not that he didn’t deserve to be mocked for daring to deliver her cleansed and pristine.
“Done.” Burning green eyes remained locked on Caspian, Kieran physically growing, drilling his attention on his leader, as he verbally ended the life of his doll.
Under Caspian’s blatant caress, the mouse stiffened.
Another point won for the First, his game to seize her full and real attention far more fruitful than he’d imagined when he’d ordered the food and piled up a small fortune. “The doll is claiming pregnancy.”
Considering Kieran’s style had always been petulance, it had been some time since Caspian had seen his Second display this level of outright anger. Running a hand through disheveled hair, snorting a huff of hot breath, Kieran barked, “The bitch wasn’t in estrous. There is no pregnancy.”
It wouldn’t be so easy as that. “The rumor that you’re about to add to your brood has already spread. The doll even demanded a place where Giggi and Oriella den with your other brats.” Because the Second could never resist a bet, Caspian added. “One-million credits that you’ll be clapped on the back when you leave the room. Half the Syndicate is waiting to congratulate you.”
A pale, small hand reached to where Caspian held the mouse’s hair in a tight fist. Stroking his fingers, she tried to urge release.
Distracted, breaking his eyes from the intruding male, mud-brown eyes cut to lavender. Her pupils had retracted, the female no longer in a state ready for mating. She was in a state for scolding—a thing he’d learned she could accomplish with a single look.
Had he been one of her boys, it may have worked.
He was not her child. He was her god.
He’d branded and paid for her, letting her know his thoughts with a lick of his lower lip and a growl.
The scent of slick as it gushed upon his call, softened the hard set of his eyes. The way she pressed her legs together as if she might hold it in, enthralling. “Do you have something to add, pretty mouse?”
Without preamble, her little palm cupped his erection.
And all hell broke loose.
It no longer mattered that a Second in need of a dry fuck up the ass lingered to watch. It no longer mattered that Caspian’s intentions to woo her had been interrupted.
All that mattered was ripping open that hideous dress so he might lick the intoxicating fluid dripping down her thighs. Pound his strength into her slender body. Pour as much cum as possible into her womb.
Teeth itching with the need to clamp down and set his mark again, fabric split and fell away in ribbons with his enthusiasm.
And then he saw it… another male’s still swollen mark on her neck.
* * *
I’m excited because my next release, ‘Burned’, releases tomorrow. It is so horribly dark and taboo, I hope you read it ONLY if you have read Yolanda Olsen’s Inferno series and liked it. Otherwise, don’t read it and just wait for my next release! It is like a train wreck you can’t stop watching, and it is so very taboo, it will hit on some major triggers that I don’t normally touch!
Until then, I really hope you grab ‘Ravaged Captive’ and enjoy the absolute filth that Addison Cain is known for. I have this bad boy loaded up on my Kindle and I am totally reading it when kiddo goes to sleep tomorrow night!
USA Today bestselling author and Amazon Top 25 bestselling author, Addison Cain is best known for her dark romances, smoldering Omegaverse, and twisted alien worlds. Her antiheroes are not always redeemable, her lead females stand fierce, and nothing is ever as it seems.
Deep and sometimes heart wrenching, her books are not for the faint of heart. But they are just right for those who enjoy unapologetic bad boys, aggressive alphas, and a hint of violence in a kiss.
This past week has been INSANE, I drove 6 hours to Oklahoma with my mother to visit The Pioneer Woman Mercantile and then drove home. I had a birthday, complete with an online surprise party. I fought with my health insurance. I celebrated Mother’s Day with my mom and my kiddo. I wrote so many words.
I am really looking for things to slow down, because I am ready to hole up in my office for a week and just bask in some quiet time. Today is a good day though, and Measha Stone has a new release today that you are going to love. Have you read her Girls of the Annex series? If not you need to, take a peek at just the cover and you will want this asap!
* * *
Obediently Ever After
A visit to the Annex was meant to be a night of fun. Something to relax me. Maybe I’d find a girl, maybe I wouldn’t. I had very little expectations.
Until Angelica walked into the room looking like she stepped out of a 1952’s Home and Garden Magazine. It wasn’t just the sexy domestic style that caught my eye, it was more. I was drawn to her.
One night. A little fun. A little roleplay. But it wasn’t enough. I don’t think I could ever get enough of her. But my pretty girl lied. She hides something from me, and I won’t accept that. She’ll learn. And when it’s all over. When I’ve saved her from the demons chasing her, I’ll truly make her mine.
* * *
“Naughty girls get spankings, don’t they, Angelica?” he asked, rubbing her already-warm ass with his hands.
“Yes.” She nodded, sounding miserable.
“Do you think next time you’ll call a cab if you’ve had too much to drink?” he asked the back of her head. Her curls bobbed with another nod. “Answer me,” he said with a hard smack to her left thigh.
“Yes!” she called out.
“Good. Then we can move on to the lying portion of your punishment.” He didn’t delay another second and went about peppering her ass with harder smacks, concentrating on the delicate spot where her thighs met her ass.
“No! No!” She threw herself forward, and to the side, but he held her to him.
“The more you resist, the longer the spanking takes,” he admonished her and delivered three hard swats to the same spot.
She gasped for air and moaned. “No. Please. I already said I’m sorry.”
“And I already told you that doesn’t change the consequence.” He continued to sprinkle her ass until the slight pink darkened to a nice crimson.
She stopped fighting against him, not that it was working anyway. He could hear soft sobs escaping her, feel tension start to give way in her.
“You’ll take ten with my belt, and then you’ll spend ten minutes in the corner,” he announced after landing a hard smack to her thigh.
“The belt?” she cried. “I don’t think—”
“That’s the problem, Angel, you didn’t think. Hopefully, after you finish with the belt, you’ll remember to think before acting. Think before lying. Think how your actions have consequences. Because if you ever lie to me again, or I find out you lied to anyone else, you’ll be getting a hell of a lot more than ten with my belt. Am I understood?”
Tension eased out of her shoulders. “Yes. I understand.”
* * *
Measha writes such fun spanking books, if you are looking for a short, hot, and super fun story, you won’t want to miss this one. It is perfect to read when you are looking for something happy and spanky. And then get ready because MY story ‘Reign of Ruin’ releases tomorrow and it is the total opposite!
I have so much more to bring you, I can’t wait to share more. Get ready, because 2019 is going to be crazy with books!
There was so many bad things that happened IMMEDIATELY after quitting the day job, so it’s been hard to not think the universe is telling me this is a very bad idea. Thankfully I have had so freaking many of you remind me that ‘correlation does not equal causation’ and I think it is starting to sink in. (a little bit)
Enough about me, today I want to bring you a story that I FUCKING LOVE by an author who I FUCKING ADORE. Myra Danvers released her new story and it is absolutely everything! Get ready, because you are going to love these psychotic characters.
* * *
“We’ll never be done, you and I.” He pushed off her desk. Closed the distance between them with prowling steps, clenched fists, and oh, so much determination. “Too much unfinished business to ever call it over.” He stopped a few steps away from uncomfortably close. Braced his palm on the wall behind her head, forearm brushing the side of her throat. “’Sides”—he licked his lips, glanced down her shirt—“we never got our hate fuck, baby girl.”
Iris knows he’ll come.
He’ll come lookin’ for what she stole, what she refused to give up when everything went to hell.
Won’t find it, of course.
There’s nothing left but a pipe full o’the good stuff and the dregs of the past that refuse to die.
* * *
Something cold slithered into Iris’ guts. Something that tasted a lot like Big Evil’s charred, yet somehow undercooked skin, but she didn’t bother to squash it—even when it wriggled and wormed. No, she left it to marinate in the festering stew of everything else she’d refused to deal with or acknowledge over the years. That’s what antacids were for.
“So,” she asked, and took another drag because goddamnit, how? She could feel Death lurking in her peripherals even now, after number Six had done its damnedest to keep her heart functioning at full capacity. And yet Big Evil survived in spite of her calculations and obsessive planning? Survived being left in the detached cargo hold, floating without breathable oxygen in temperatures well below freezing? “That human cockroach can endure anything, apparently,” she grumbled, stretching out her dead fingers. “Just my luck, he’s probably immortal, and I’ll never be free of that stain. But you can’t be sure of anything until we’ve launched his still-breathin’ body into the deep.”
“I said no, Iris.”
“What’s the issue? You’ve stooped low enough to breed a roost of vultures, Mister Morals—a little cold-blooded murder won’t tip the scales much at this point. Hell,” she continued, “it’s not even murder, really. I did most of the killing. I’ll even push the button for you, baby. But I’ll be a rotting corpse before I share air with him again.” Daxx grinned. Sucking his teeth. “Poetic, but dead bodies don’t need air, pet.”
“Apparently that one does,” she returned, flinging her ruined hand in the direction of The Seeker’s cargo floating a few thousand klicks away—in the general direction of one still-breathin’ corpse. “Launch him into the ether before he gets the chance to get a little stab happy.”
“‘Big Evil’ is a man in high demand, which means I’ll be collectin’ him from the cargo hold before he dies, pet.” For a moment, he fiddled with her make-shift pipe, then tossed it aside, and said, “Now come. You’ve got a date with the detox fairy.”
“Well, that’s a poor choice,” she said, but allowed him to pull her from the pilot’s chair in spite of the burns and the slippery, slimy feet squelching in her boots. “Sober Iris isn’t half the Mech I am.” “Think I’ll take my chances, thanks.” The lane boss snorted, guiding her aft, toward The Seeker’s back exit. The rest of his ragtag crew followed along without being told, all obedient n’shit. Iris shrugged. “Whatever tickles your taint, Daxx.” And then, because she needed Daxx to know exactly how serious she was about turning The Seeker into an untouched mausoleum dedicated to no other but her, she said, “Seeker? Initiate protocol Tangerine Dream.”
In response, The Seeker’s dash flashed with a flood of orange light. Glowing in spurts between bright and almost black, her words plunged Daxx’s crew into near-dark. Serenaded them all with the dull hum of The Seeker’s life support systems going offline and the hissssss of precious gases being jettisoned into the deep, all at once. But it was the inverted pop of her electromag shields shutting down that drew a furious curse from Daxx’s lips. “What the fuck, Iris?” the lane boss snapped, and jerked her through the exit hatch. “Couldn’t have waited for us to be gone before you shut her down? Fucking junkie!”
He had reason to fear, she’d give him that much. Without those shields, it wouldn’t be long before all manner of galactic cosmic radiation smashed into the squishy, delicate humans within.
Unraveling their DNA with gleeful abandon just to see what a sentient being might look like when reduced to nothing more than base elements. Grinning, even though she’d just destroyed her entire crop of opium, Iris stumbled along at his side. A wet noodle of perfect obedience. “Daxx, baby! Come on. I thought you were all about taking risks? What’s more thrilling than the very real threat of having your lungs turned inside out and crystallizing before your frozen eyeballs? Maybe the radiation will give you superpowers.”
He didn’t reply. Merely hustled her along behind his crew, shoving her faster than her blistered feet could keep up with. And when Iris stumbled—skinning her knees on The Seeker’s floor panels and bending one of those dead fingers about thirty degrees in the wrong direction—Daxx didn’t stop to ask after her health. He scooped her up with a burly arm around her ribs, and tossed her skinny junkie ass through the exit. She landed with skin-splitting force, but didn’t feel it through the haze. Knowing to enjoy that particular lack while she could. Knowing what was coming next.
But to watch the wall of freezing air chasing them from The Seeker’s belly wasn’t a sight she often got to enjoy, so there, on the floor of Daxx’s spiffy little scouting skiff, she watched. Hair pulled toward the vacuum sucking the life from The Seeker’s entrails, she watched, grinning that mad grin only an addict could pull off. Because, really. Most people didn’t get to see this more than just the once, as it usually preceded a horrific, suffocating death, given that most were too lazy or stupid to install the necessary fail safes.
Which wasn’t to say that she had created those necessities. Only that it was stupid to go without. When the last of the vultures had scrambled into the little scouting ship suckered onto The Seeker’s butt cheeks, Daxx slammed the door shut with plenty of time before the frost crackled through his hull.
The drama queen.
“Fuck,” he snapped, really biting that word in half before turning dark eyes down at her. “You,” he said, and closed the distance between them. Pulling her up by the lapels of her leather jacket. Making the seams bulge in protest, even if she didn’t. And then, with shaking hands, Daxx spun her, pressing her bruised, scarred cheek to a stack of frigid plastic storage bins. Wrenching first her left, then right arm behind her back no matter that bent finger or her failure to fight back, he kept her pinned with the weight of his body. With his groin and hip.
“Easy,” Iris rasped, teeth gnashing against the pain she shouldn’t be able to feel, but did. And when his elbow caught at one of those places number Six had told her qualified as a third degree burn, she couldn’t help the squawk of protest.
Daxx thumped her against the boxes. “Shut the fuck up. I’m more’n capable of finding something to gag you with.”
And then he snapped his fingers at one of his men and bound her wrists behind her back with what might have been a belt or several linked zip-ties. Wrenched so high, so tight, not even the opium could mask the pain. With a huff, he sat her in a jump seat beside the skiff’s only toilet, and took the spot opposite her. Planting his boot on her chest as he crossed burly arms. Glaring. Iris grinned, right knee bouncing.
“Nothing to say for that little stunt? You almost got us all killed, Iris. I’ll have to have the whole crew treated for radiation poisoning, and so help me, if even one of them dies…”
“Puhl-ease,” she drawled, trying to ease the strain on her shoulders, though it was largely impossible given the size thirteen boot planted on her sternum. “Vultures are easy to breed. You’ll have another crew in no time.”
Daxx didn’t so much as crack a smile, but one of the filthy scavengers did. “Not gonna be so high’n mighty when she’s servicin’ the whole crew. Gonna enjoy makin’ her cry. Gonna enjoy planting a few vultures in her belly after that comment. And that stunt. She can be our little breeder…”
“Aren’t you a charmer,” Iris said, eyes flicking over his crisp uniform. Pegging him as an officer, though that rank was sorely misplaced amongst vultures.
“What’s your name, sweetness?” The nameless one frowned, taken aback. “Why?”
“I’m a sucker for propriety. ‘Specially when I’m planning to unleash something naughty. Target needs a name, baby.”
Daxx snorted. “She’s my property until I say otherwise,” he said, cutting them off, not bothering to remove his boot from her chest, or allow her to name the man who wanted to breed her. The lane boss merely watched her as the skiff kicked off. Dragging The Seeker’s dead weight toward his ship. Slow and lazy.
“That’s mighty unfair of you,” the unnamed vulture said, eyes sticking on the bare skin of her thighs. The way her ratty boxer-shorts sagged and hinted at what might lie in shadows. “Don’t see why she can’t take a few cocks and work for you at the same time. Her holes are separate from her brain, aren’t they?”
Accustomed to such blustery nonsense, Iris yawned. Jaw cracking. Eyes watering. Body aching.
“What makes you think I want to share with you, Shantz?” Daxx smirked, tipping his head back as they made their lumbering progress. “I’ve got plans for the girl.”
Unimpressed, she let the opium close her eyes. Rolling Shantz’s name around her tongue, just to get the feel for it.
* * *
This last weekend involved a very significant amount of alcohol, hanging with some friends, getting authorlandia stuff done, and I am actually starting to feel better now. ‘Inheritance’ even has THE END typed out, I have done a read-through and am working on some edits! Let’s hope I can get this done so I can get it out to you, I can see the end in sight lovelies!
Until then, grab ‘Delirium’ because it is just amazing and enjoy the very twisted sci-fi trip!
Raised by her awesome parents in Canada’s snowy north, Myra learned perseverance from an early age. She learned to speak in third person, via extensive reading as a child, because… well… Northern Canada gets a LOT of snow. And when one isn’t snowboarding, building quinzees, or waking up to teddy bears frozen to the floor, one tends to read about places that are warm–even if being cold is preferable to being hot, every-damn-time.
All that reading gave Myra the gypsy bug. So, after college, (where she majored in professional gypsying) she moved to a ski resort in British Colombia to be a ski bum and chase the winter, because the cold was in her bones and it never bothered her anyway. (Points because Elsa of Frozen is her spirit animal?)
But then life caught up with her, as it does, and now she’s stuffed full of enough life experience to write until transcendence (where she will be first in line to get a sweet android body and travel the universe until the end of time). So that’s what she does, when she’s not listening to the voices or taking apart the electronics just to see their insides.
I have such good news, I am in the full swing of authorland. I am finally done with my story for Black Light: Celebrity Roulette and it am deep in edits of the other stories in the anthology. It releases on Feb 7 and I am super excited for everyone to read it because I am really happy with it so far.
For now though, I couldn’t let the day pass without bringing you an excerpt of the new release by my Nighthawk, Sara Fields. Take a peek at the finale of the Vakarran series which is STILL burning up the Amazon charts!
* * *
They hunted her. They caught her. Now they will subdue her.
The resistance sent them, but that’s not really why these four battle-hardened Vakarrans are here.
They came for me. To conquer me. To master me. To ravage me. To strip me bare, punish me for the slightest hint of defiance, and use my quivering virgin body in ways far beyond anything in even the very darkest of my dreams, until I’ve been utterly, completely, and shamefully subdued.
I vow never to beg for mercy, but I can’t help wondering how long it will be until I beg for more.
* * * Excerpt:
“Bare yourself for me, now,” Zane said softly, the command in his voice ringing deep in my bones. I closed my eyes for a moment and breathed softly, allowing my hands to drift down. I opened them again and gripped the hem of my shirt and slowly pulled it up. Zane was there with me, helping to guide the fabric over my head. He didn’t rush me, only calmly assisted as I stripped before him.
He gently pulled off my boots and then my socks, leaving me standing on the soft mossy underbrush beneath my feet. Next, we took off my pants together. Standing in only my bra and panties, I shivered. I saw a look of appreciation cross his features. He wanted me too.
His thumb drifted across my skin then.
“Your skin is so pale and beautiful. I bet it’ll bear the mark of my lash beautifully,” he mused and the dark seduction in his voice left me breathless with need.
I reached behind my back and undid the clasp of my bra, and my breasts felt heavy as I pulled it away from my body. Zane gripped the hem of my underwear and knelt before me, dragging them down my hips and revealing the last of my secrets to his view. His breath was warm against the wetness of my pussy and I breathed shakily in response.
“Zane, please,” I begged.
The tip of his tongue reached for my wet folds, dragging up across my clit. I squeaked with both surprise and pleasure, and he chuckled quietly at his conquest.
“Your cunt tastes the sweetest when you know you’re about to be punished, little human,” he said, and all the breath left my lungs in a single gasp. There was no fighting him then, I knew that. He could whip me, spank me, fuck me, I didn’t care, but I would do anything to feel that tongue between my legs once more. He met my gaze and I knew he knew it too.
He stood back up and I watched as he uncoiled some rope from his belt. He curled one loop around my wrist and tied it to a nearby tree. He did the same with the other. After I was stretched outward like I was mounted on a cross, he moved behind me and allowed his fingers to touch the vulnerable skin of my back. I sighed and then he dragged them down until he cupped my ass with them. Clutching my nervous cheeks, he dug his fingers into my flesh and I moaned softly, unsure if I should be feeling pleasure, pain, or even both.
When he released my ass, I sighed, with relief or disappointment, I didn’t know.
Behind me, I heard his belt jingle quietly and I tried to swallow my rising anxiety. I’d never felt the fire of a man’s belt before and as much as I wanted to escape right now, I wondered just how it might feel. If I might like it. I knew it would hurt, but my body was doing curious things in response. My nipples were harder than ever, begging to be touched. My legs rubbed against each other and I knew I was much wetter than before. I could feel it dripping down my thighs. My body wanted to feel the leather against my bare skin.
I should be ashamed. I shouldn’t be reacting like this.
But still, my pussy clenched with desire. Zane’s arm reached around my hip, reaching between my legs and I shook with pleasure. He cupped my pussy in his palm stroking one finger up and down my wet folds.
He chuckled softly, and I couldn’t stop the whimper from escaping my lips. It took tremendous effort to draw in one breath after another. I tried to control the nervous anxiety and developing excitement in my body, but I was quickly losing it. Zane took his other hand and dragged it up my back. Gooseflesh erupted all over my skin and I sighed with delight, only for him to reach up behind my head. In a rush of movement, he gripped the hair at the base of my skull, pulling my head backwards.
I cried out at the sudden pain, but I did not protest. I knew begging for mercy would accomplish nothing. Zane was going to punish me, and he wouldn’t stop until he wanted to, until I learned my lesson and my entire body was good and sore. As much as I was afraid of what was about to happen, I couldn’t deny that I wanted it too. The hand cupping my pussy fell away from my skin.
A slapping sound echoed throughout the woods and at once, I realized that he smacked my pussy. Delicious pain consumed me for a long moment, but then, my pussy began to throb with pleasure. I breathed heavily, drawing in air as my desire began to grow.
“After I whip this naughty ass, I’m going to make sure to punish that wet little cunt of yours, good and hard,” he whispered, and my pussy clenched in excitement.
Zane’s hold on my hair fell away next and then, a piece of fabric drifted over my eyes. Deprived of my vision and swallowed up by darkness, my other senses grew stronger. I heard the crackle of leaves behind me, the sound of Zane’s bated breath, the sway of the trees in the wind and I found it hard to quell the rising desire in my body.
I heard many footsteps in the leaves and then, someone moved in front of me, but I couldn’t figure out who. All I knew was that Zane was no longer the only one taking part in my punishment. My nipples hardened into tight little peaks and my pussy clenched and I couldn’t deny that I wanted to know what was going to happen next. A pair of fingers reached out and caressed my nipple, before pinching it hard enough to make me cry out.
Another hand reached between my legs, exploring my rampant arousal and I shivered with my shame. I felt a smooth surface rub against my cheek and the scent of leather drifted to my nose. Trembling, I tried to pull in a breath but then, the fingers between my legs began to circle my throbbing clit.
“About to get the belt, and still, she’s as wet as ever,” Valdus said nonchalantly and my shame washed over me.
Another pair of fingers joined his, before they left my pussy and immediately thrust into my mouth.
“Taste how wet you are,” Zane mused. All four of them knew it. I felt humiliated, but also incredibly turned on.
Trying to be as obedient as I could, I swirled my tongue around his thick digits, tasting the sweetness of my arousal. I whimpered softly with my shame, before he dragged his fingers from my lips. Gently, he cuffed my cheek and I could feel my own wetness on my skin.
“She’s beautiful,” Caleb muttered under his breath and his voice was like a light in the darkness for me.
Next to me, Zane pressed his lips to my shoulder.
Devoid of sight, I didn’t know what was going to happen next, but when I heard something swish through the air, I stiffened. A fiery lash burst across my ass then and I cried out with surprise. If I had thought Tavik’s palm had been painful, it was nothing compared to Zane’s belt. The lash fell again as Zane began to fall into a steady rhythm. I twisted and turned in my bonds, but the belt met the curves of my ass, as well as my thighs each and every time.
I cried out. I begged, but nothing I could do stopped the leather’s assault.
It burned hot and with my sight taken away from me, it was the only thing I could focus on. Hands grasped at my breasts and my pussy, pinching me, teasing me and forcing me to feel pleasure even as the belt whipped against my skin. With the men touching me, it was hard to keep my body’s reactions at bay. The whip of the belt caused an initial burst of pain, but then, with the men’s touch and knowing how I’d lost complete control, pleasure soon followed. Fingers pinched at my wet folds, and I couldn’t stop them, bound as I was. They were going to give me pleasure and pain, and I couldn’t do a thing about it.
I had to take it. All of it.
* * *
With all of the work on the next Black Light book, I am super excited to start bringing you excerpts of stories from Celebrity Roulette! Keep an eye on my blog because these are going to be never-before-shared excerpts and you are going to love them. Until then, grab Subdued and find out what happens in this amazing finale of the Vakarrans series.
Sara is an author specializing in erotic spanking romance, who spends the day doing science, and writes by night. She has been on the spanking scene for many years, and has experienced all different types of spankings, from sensual, to fun, to punishments, including all of the implements she writes about! Sara finally decided to branch out and write some hot spanking fiction, so she could share the sexy fantasies that happen deep in the recesses of her creative mind.