Everyone Needs A Bedtime Story

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Blinked: A free erotic read for Halloween

As it’s Halloween weekend, I thought I’d treat you to a complete free story.

Vampires anyone?

Enjoy!!

Blinked

(copyright Kay Jaybee)

Human minds are so unimaginative, so closed. There’s usually a soft blue glow surrounding them. Not this one.

The taste around him was sharper, it tingled against my skin, zesty with an edge of…what to call it? To say it felt sulphuric would suggest it was accompanied by an unpleasant odour, but that wasn’t the case. The aroma emanating from this human was irresistible, yet it was oddly metallic in its intensity, in its bitter tang, in its…

He turned and looked directly at me, cutting off my line of thought. I was startled by the piercing nature of his deep brown eyes, and began to wonder if he already knew, if he could tell what I was?

The hairs on the back of my neck bristled beneath my red ponytail. He really was something different. My green eyes narrowed, my heart-rate, always rapid, increased further, and I felt the familiar swell of my chest and a twitch at my crotch as I observed him watching me.

Mentally I admonished myself. There was no way he could possibly know.

The hum and buzz of the bar faded to a mere background annoyance. He should have come to me by now. Impatience rose in my throat. This was unsettlingly strange. My quarry usually comes to me as soon as my craving for them enters my psyche. It’s part of the power; an automatic response. I want them, so they want me; madly, insanely, and without a hint of uncertainty, for the desire was all. The desire IS all. Hunger, sex, success, power and control. Without them the blood I crave is simply a nice warm drink.

My senses constricted further, tuning out the other drinkers. Confusion edged uninvited into the corner of my brain. Conquest should be easy. Then the small part of me that remembered what it was like to be human, reminded me that sometimes the pursuit was as exciting as the capture. Yeah, right!

I went to him, my head held high, my pony tail swinging purposefully behind my back. His lack of instant obedience wasn’t my failure, it was his, and he would pay for such insolence.

Essential need had taken me over, and as my breasts pushed against the satin of my black bustler, and the thud behind my ribcage became louder, I stood only inches away from him. Then instinct took over, and I moved in for the kill. My eyes, blazing dangerous lust, met his without flinching, without wavering, without blinking.

He blinked. That was when I knew I’d won. That whatever strange game he thought he’d been playing, it was already over. He blinked, and I didn’t. He had a weakness I had long since cast off. Simple.

We didn’t speak. I just nodded and turned around, walking purposely towards the exit, my hips swaying, my tight leather mini-skirt revealing the tops of my stockings and the contours of my backside. I could already taste his drooling mouth as he picked up the bag that had sat at his feet, and followed me; finally my slave.

His mind had cleared of the haze that had first kept me away. All he thought now was of his need, the need to fuck. To fuck me.

I kept walking. I didn’t look back, I knew he was there. I could smell the chemically caustic edge of his presence, even if I couldn’t see him.

My flat, small and obsessively neat, was only a short walk from the bar. I unlocked the front door and pointed inside, watching as he followed the line of my finger with his eyes, before obeying the unspoken request and entering the dark hallway.

Locking the door behind me, I led him to the bedroom, and began to unbutton the studs that held my top together down my right hand side, enjoying the sight of his wide hungry eyes and his parted lips. Hell, he was virtually panting like a dog.

Dropping my bustler to the ground, I showed him I wore no underwear beneath, and that my tits were more than ready for his touch. He was clearly in need too. The bulge beneath his denims was all but breaking out on its own. I smiled, but did nothing about his growing discomfort, instead, I commanded him to remove his black t-shirt. My crotch gave a twitch of anticipation as he obeyed without question.

I admired the torso before me, the beautifully thick neck, its veins running blue, pulsing slightly just below the surface. I would visit that neck soon; linger over it, but not yet. I had learnt to be disciplined, that the wait for the kill was more fun than the moment itself. For once the second of victory came, it was soon over, and then the hunt would have to begin again.

Walking around my guest in a wide circle I nodded in approval. His head turned with me, his brown eyes never leaving my chest, his mouth watering. This was obedience.

Beneath his left shoulder blade there was a small tattoo. It was a black Celtic cross. I moved closer, and with a single blood red fingernail traced its outline. A sudden chill engulfed me, but that was all. I didn’t disappear in a puff of smoke. I wasn’t reduced to a pile of ash upon the floor. Religious symbols versus the vampire. The vampires won that battle years ago. We are simply too strong to be beaten that easily.

I felt his flesh quiver beneath my touch, but to his credit he didn’t move, although his breathing did quicken, and the gleam in his eyes said more about his requirements than any words could have expressed.

The air between us began to change as his aura altered. The sulphuric tang was evaporating and red hot chemical desire had taken its place. Still not quite what I’d have expected from the average human, but this guy was so together, literary pulsating sex; he was everything I wanted.

From nowhere, I heard my mother’s shrill voice from centuries ago, telling me not to play with my food. A disobedient child to the last, I began to do just that, and ran my tongue up and down his back in long languid strokes. As I savoured the salty sweat against my taste buds, my self-control began to wane, and I felt the yearning for blood creep up my spine, heightening my senses further, clouding my eyes so that they are but a black focused fog, taking in nothing but my victim and the overriding longings of my body.

I tore off his remaining clothes with a speed that was beyond mortal, clawing them so they lay in mere shreds upon the floor.  At that moment his semi-hypnotised state broke, and with a hunger I would normally only associate with the un-dead, he returned my urgency with fervour. Peeling off my tight skirt and boots, a flick of his brown eyes showed brief pleasure at my lack of knickers, as I pushed him back onto the bed.

If he was surprised by my strength then he didn’t show it. His heavy masculine aroma, his lust, intoxicated me as I sat astride him, impaling myself to the hilt. Rocking back and forth, and sliding up and down in alternative motions, I revelled in the expression on his face. His eyes closed in concentration, as I snaked my right hand beneath us, and stuffed two sharp fingernails up his arse, making him yelp in surprise.

With my tits aching, desperately in need of his attention, I wordlessly dragged at his mind, commanding him to sit. He obeyed in seconds, and while my fingers were still inserted, he suckled and nipped at first one nipple and then the other. I cried out as he bit harder, the delicious agony turning from pinching discomfort to white hot pain, as I dug my free nails into his back. His free hand dived to my crotch, rubbing at my clit with an expertise that tipped me into climax before I’d given him permission to do so. A climax which sent my twitching muscles into spasms that massaged his cock into a spunking orgasm of its own.

My eyes and intellect clouded with both the power of my success, and a brief unexpected dizziness, before focusing again, as I pushed him back onto the bed for the second time. His neck was so exposed, his dark brown hair too short to provide it any protection. I sniffed at the skin, and licked it once more. Its scent was heady, and I could almost taste the rich blood, the warm sticky liquid running down my throat and around my chin and lips.

I shook my head sharply, trying to dispel the growing sensation of disorientation that suddenly swam in my head. I drew back, and plunged towards his neck.

He moved so fast. So very fast.

I was knocked to the floor, and must have blacked out, for suddenly his bag had been opened and I was spread eagled on my own bed, silenced by a gag as I tugged and tugged at the solid metal bar handcuffs that he’d attached to both my wrists and ankles, and the bed posts.

The spinning in my head subsided into anger. How had this happened?

I bit into the ball gag, tasting the rubber, retching at its stench. Yet there was another smell, one that should not have been there, and for a moment my brain refused to believe it was in the room with me. It was simply impossible.

He was looking at me. He was different. Not bigger as such, not taller, but broader and stronger. His hair was longer, sleeker. His eyes were darker and somehow more intense.

It had been decades since I’d felt fear, but here it was, and my tethered body wrenched and struggled harder as it engulfed me with a sheen of unaccustomed sweat.

‘I’d stop that if I were you.’ His voice sounded gravely with age, and although he looked about thirty, I realised he was older. Much much older. ‘You can’t and won’t escape. Stronger vampires than you have tried and failed.’

Stronger vampires? I attempted to calm down, to breathe deeper, to focus my hatred and strength for a moment, then I’d break free.

He looked amused as he continued to appraise my nakedness. A large hand reached out to tweak my right nipple, pulling it out until I gasped into my gag, causing droplets of dribble run down its sides.

‘Aren’t you going to ask who I am?’ He slapped my other breast, making me flinch against mattress, ‘Oh of course, you can’t can you, but I’m surprised you aren’t putting your questions directly into my head. Why not I wonder?’

I wondered to.  I was trying, but it was like hitting a brick wall.

He laughed again, his voice getting deeper with each fresh word as he kept up the slow torture, twisting my nipples as if they were screw caps that might eventually come lose. I started to struggle again, but with each move I seemed to get weaker, but my body, so honed to chase personal want, was continuing to desire him on despite myself.

His right hand left my chest, causing me to gulp into the rubber ball with loss, as he trailed it down my body, making sure he touched every inch of my flesh on the way south. I arched my back, trying to both escape, and make him go faster at the same time.

Perspiration dotted my forehead and neck, and suddenly I knew what this feeling was. This was how prey felt. This was panic. I stared up at him, trying to break through his eyes. Nothing. No aroma, No aura. There was nothing at all to work from to bring him back under my power- if he’d ever been under it in the first place.

His fingers had reached my naval, and he stopped. My arse raised itself of its own free will in an attempt to force his attentions lower, and I was aware that I was whimpering into the muzzle, but he just grunted. No, he snarled.

Everything in me tensed, and I knew. How had I not known before? What had he done to me?

I peered harder into his face. Then it happened. I blinked, and in that second I knew he’d won. My mind gave up, sagging in on itself, and yet still my treacherous body wanted more, and at last, as I lay exhausted and still, his paw of a hand went lower.

As fingers circled my clit, he spoke, ‘The drink you had before you targeted me. It had been doctored. The barman is a friend of mine. A slow working controlant. Nothing major, just enough for me to take advantage of the split second of disorientation between a vampires climax and the re-instatement of full cognitive manipulation. An effective weapon in the control of your species, I think you’ll agree.’

Frantically, I thought back to the bar, to the man who’s served my drinks. I remembered nothing.

‘I’ve been watching your activities for sometime. Not the strongest of your breed, but you have an incredible record of taking people knocked out by your flirty eyes and killer body.  A body,’ he broke off and pressed a palm against my mound, forcing a gush sticky juice to escape from my pussy, ‘that has been the death of many men and women.’

I could feel my stomach knotting and churning as a second orgasm began to build with frightening pace.

‘I was impressed. You didn’t even flinch at my cross tattoo. Amazing isn’t it, how those stupid humans still believe a religious symbol or a clove of garlic will still kill off a vampire, and how they believe that silver will weaken a werewolf.’

He bent down to his bag and produced the longest, thickest dildo I have ever seen. It was solid silver. My eyes widened in horror as I realised he was going to make me accommodate it. He stood between my outstretched legs, holding the toy so I could see it clearly, and take in every intimidating inch of its length and width. Then, just as I had began to tell myself that he was simply enjoying threatening me, and that he’d never actually use it, he pushed its tip to the edge of my pussy.

The shock of the cold smooth metal against my burning skin was swiftly diminished by the stretching of my pussy walls, as without mercy, without giving me time to adjust to its two inch width, he rammed the phallus between my legs causing my muscles to cramp. I knew I was making it worse for myself by not relaxing my abdomen, but the tool was so heavy, so wide, that my mind refused to stop telling me just how full I was, and a weighty feeling of helplessness, pain and lingering want in the rest of my body ripped my last vestiges of my pride and concentration into a million pieces.

Once totally inserted, with a cunning that would have made Machiavelli proud, the werewolf began to twist the dildo round in a slow circle, widening my channel until tears streaked my cheeks and the dribble that had gathered at the corners of my gag ran in rivers of drool.

‘I think you are ready now.’

Ready for what?  No sooner had I had the thought, than he slapped his palm against my pussy, jamming the dildo up further, making me scream into my gag, as he bent to squeeze my right teat, and simultaneously began to jerk the dildo in and out at speed.

My body jacked, straining and pulling against my restraints, as I came in a third wave of uncontrollable lust, that sent such blinding colours through my head that I passed out.

When I came round I was no longer at home, but was sat on a hard wooden chair in an unfamiliar room.  My eyes took a while to adjust to the subdued light, and it was a minute or two before I realised that my mouth was free. I exercised my jaw muscles briefly, before trying to run. I failed. My legs were free, but my wrists remained bound, although this time they were fastened before my naked body with a strong metal chain, which was then looped through a ring that was attached to the wall.

Instantly, I yanked at the bindings, only to hear a cacophony of laughter.

‘I told you she was feisty.’ The werewolf wasn’t alone, three others stood behind him. He came forward. ‘I think it would be polite to introduce you, but first I will explain to you where you are.’ Taking another step towards me, he gestured his arms liberally around the room, ‘this is where I train my fellow werewolves to resist and overcome vermin such as yourself.’

I followed his gestures around the room, noticing for the first time that I was not the only one chained up. Two other vampires, one male, one female, both naked, were secured to rings further along the bare brick wall. Their eyes were wide, their bodies unashamedly yearning in my direction.

‘Here, we harden our fellow werewolves to the effects of silver, and teach them how to overcome the power of the vampire mind by using sex as a weapon, just like you do to the humans.’ He smiled, flashing his canines, which looked far more extant than I had previously seen them, ‘I think, like the two other assistants you see before you; you will learn to love your role here.’

I said nothing, but pulled at the chain with increased determination.

With infuriating patience, he waited until I sat still, his eyes shining with the thrill of control, ‘Let’s see how much you protest with a silver dick in your pussy, a woman’s mouth around your tits, and a man’s cock in-between those rose red lips shall we?  Think about it. Sex on tap, a constant supply of blood, and the fun of a continual battle for supremacy with two of your own kind, ask yourself, is this truly prison? Or have I bought you to vampire heaven?’

I thought about it.

He had a point.

I hope you enjoyed that. Happy Halloween.

Kay x

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Opening Lines: The Voyeur

It’s relaunch day for my dark romance novel, The Voyeur!

To help celebrate, I’m sharing its Opening Lines with you today. 

BLURB

Wealthy businessman and committed voyeur, Mark Parker, has a list of thirteen fantasies he is intent on turning into reality. Travelling between his London flat, his plush Oxfordshire mansion, and Discreet, his favourite S&M club; Mark is helped to realise his imaginatively dark erotic desires by two loyal members of his staff. His Personal Assistant, Anya Grant, and his Housekeeper, Clara Hooper.

Upon the backs of his willing slaves, Mark has written out his fantasy list in thick red pen. Only Fantasy 12 awaits the tick of completion against their flesh before Mark’s ultimate fantasy – Fantasy 13 – can take place.

But have the girls performed well enough to succeed in the final challenge? And what hold does the Bridge’s Gentleman’s Club, Anya’s previous employer, have over Mark? A place Anya was only too delighted to escape from.

In order to find out, Mark’s girls are going to have to face some of the fantasies they thought they’d left behind them all over again; and while they do, Mark will watch…

FIRST 500 WORDS

Chapter One

His evening meal complete, Mark Parker sat back, contentedly sipping his deliberately bitter black coffee. Pulling a small, battered notebook from his pocket, he flicked impatiently thorough several pages of his looped handwriting . His self-restraint, although immense, was beginning to run out.

It was time for them to progress to the end of the list.

Summoning his personal assistant, Anya, and his housekeeper, Clara, to the dining room, Mark allowed himself an internal smile. The women arrived swiftly, both aware of the importance of not keeping him waiting.

Standing on the opposite side of the highly polished dining room table, he observed as his employees visibly braced themselves for the coming instructions.

‘I have decided that we’ll take a trip to Discreet this evening. It is time we turned our attention to the next challenge on my list. Fantasy 12.’ Mark’s cool blue eyes watched; weighing up the reaction of his staff to his announcement.

Discreet was the reason that Mark spent such a large proportion of time in his London flat, rather than in his mini-mansion in Oxfordshire, where his software business was based. It was only at Discreet, the most exclusive of the city’s BDSM clubs, that his increasingly imaginative fantasies could be publicly appreciated; most of which involved the intimate observation of other people’s erotic aspirations. Mark Parker was the ultimate voyeur.

Trying hard not to exchange glances with her colleague, Anya could sense the stiffening of Clara’s body as they listened to their boss. She knew that the housekeeper’s mind, like her own, would already be racing; madly trying to guess what Mark’s latest erotic scenario would involve. Having survived fantasies one to eleven, the women had no illusions about the nature of the challenges they were likely to experience during the evening that loomed ominously ahead.

‘Anya, you will be less delighted than Clara, perhaps, when I tell you that this trip is intended as a lesson for you; possibly a punishment.’

Forgetting herself for a second, the PA lifted her head and stared Mark squarely in the face.

His lips smiled; his eyes, however, did not. ‘You wonder why? Why, when you are forever questioning my instructions?’

‘But Mark, I …’ Anya stopped talking, aware that by asking the question “why” she was simply proving his point. She could feel her nipples hardened beneath her white shirt, as Mark continued to speak.

‘Oh my dear Anya, you may never question me out loud.’ Mark’s voice was as soft as velvet, yet the potential danger of disagreeing with him shone in his eyes. ‘But I know that you constantly query my actions by your reaction to them. Subconscious or not, it has to stop.’

Anya couldn’t believe it; she had always been so dutiful. The perfect assistant. The willing and compliant slave. How could Mark possibly know she privately questioned her existence; her choice at being here with him and Clara, living this less than ordinary existence?

Mark took a step closer to his …

***

If you’d like to read on, then you can find The Voyeur in ebook form from the following retailers…

Amazon UK
Amazon US
Amazon AU
Amazon CA
Apple Books UK
Apple Books US
Barnes & Noble
Kobo
Smashwords

Happy reading,

Kay x

Opening Lines: Watch the Skies by Tanith Davenport

It’s “Opening Lines” time, and I’m delighted to welcome Tanith Davenport to my site, with the first 500 words from her re-released novel, “Watch the Skies.”

Over to you Tanith…

My excerpt is from my new re-release “Watch the Skies”, a piece I was inspired to write after many episodes of “Chasing UFOs” and “Destination Truth”. My characters are alien hunters, travelling out into the countryside at night in the hope of seeing something more than faint lights in the sky – only this time my alpha heroine, Aster, gets much more than she bargained for.

First 500 words of Watch the Skies

She liked to look out of her window at night and watch the stars.

It was a strange feeling. Sometimes it was curiosity, a desire to know what was out there. There had to be something, she was sure. They couldn’t possibly be the only intelligent life in the universe. Somewhere, no matter how far, there had to be other life, other knowledge.

But then, how far? Across unguessable gulfs, or closer by? Within their own galaxy, or lost somewhere in the immensity of space? Could it be possible that there was alien life within easy reach, or would it involve impossible travel to find them?

Sometimes it was loneliness. She wanted to find someone else out there, someone to communicate with, someone to know. It was difficult sometimes, feeling that she didn’t really belong. She often felt as though she was alone in a crowd, not like everyone else, abandoned in the midst of numbers.

Maybe out there in the universe there were others who would understand.

And then, at other times, she thought she saw lights, shapes. It was probably nothing. Airplanes, shooting stars. But at those times she would find her emotions changing as she watched, feeling a strange sensation of peace or belonging. She would find herself wanting to join them, yearning to cross that space and see them.

She could almost hear them in her head sometimes.

Ours. Ours. Ours.

Not that she ever would tell anyone that. People would think she was crazy. Hell, she often thought she was crazy. But it gave her comfort to feel wanted, even if it was all in her mind.

The strangest times were when she would feel lust.

Not for anything in particular. It was an odd, free-floating lust that seemed to attach itself to nothing. But sometimes she would watch the skies and find herself leaning hard against the window, one hand pressed to the zip of her jeans, clit throbbing, wet, aching to be touched.

She would never understand why, but she liked to think it was part of the sense of belonging. That sometimes she was wanted, needed, and in return they made her need. It was a sweet secret she would never share, bizarre and special and solely her own.

Mine. Mine. Mine.

She liked to picture them at times, imagine what they might look like. She had read so many different descriptions of alien life. Would they have the pointed face, wide eyes and spindly limbs of the traditional grey alien? Would they look more humanoid, blonde and sensual? Or maybe they would be completely different, unimaginable. She liked to think they would be recognisable, but maybe there were things out there that nobody had ever seen, or claimed to see.

The feelings of desire had come more often recently. More and more she had found herself aching, wanting, staring up at the sky in need. So many times she had yearned for someone to appear in front of her and touch…

***

Blurb

Alien hunter Aster is frustrated in more ways than one. Her team haven’t had a proper encounter in months, and her cute teammate Wade is never going to see her that way – and no other man would let a woman like Aster take charge in a relationship anyway.

Until one night, out in the woods, when the team are engulfed in a white light – and overwhelmed with desire like they’ve never known. Suddenly Aster sees a new side to Wade, one that will let her give her alpha tendencies free rein…

But as the creatures they met return again and again, Aster begins to wonder what they really want – to see her and Wade together, or something more sinister?

Buy links:

Amazon US: https://amzn.to/2IUkKrB

Amazon UK: https://amzn.to/2MdrkID

Social media:

www.facebook.com/TanithDavenport

www.twitter.com/TanithDavenport

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/40226308-watch-the-skies

tanithdavemport.blogspot.com

***

Bio

Tanith Davenport began writing erotica at the age of 27 by way of the Romantic Novelists’ Association New Writers’ Scheme. Her debut novel “The Hand He Dealt” was released by Total-e-Bound in June 2011 and was shortlisted for the Joan Hessayon Award for 2012.

Tanith has had short stories published by Naughty Nights Press and House of Erotica. She loves to travel and dreams of one day taking a driving tour of the United States, preferably in a classic 1950s pink Cadillac Eldorado.

Tanith’s idea of heaven is an Indian head massage with a Mojito at her side.

***

Many thanks to Tanith for that wonderful extract.

Come back in two weeks time for Emmanuelle du Maupassant’s “Opening Lines”

Happy reading everyone,

Kay x

 

OUT NOW: Knowing Her Place

TODAY’S THE DAY

At last the final book in the award winning, The Perfect Submissive trilogy, is back out!

Available from today as an eBook, Knowing Her Place, completes the submissive journey of self discovery for Miss Jess Sanders.

So if you enjoy a good binge read- now you can!

From The Fifth Floor – to The Retreat– and on to Knowing Her Place, Jess’s adventure starts straight away- and doesn’t stop until the very last page of book three….and beyond (watch this space…)

(Make sure you take time out to breathe in between novels!)

Blurb for Knowing Her Place:

Full of unanswered questions after her erotic fairytale experience at The Retreat in Scotland, Jess Sanders is desperate to return to her submissive position at the exclusive Fables Hotel in Oxfordshire.

Having been thwarted in his plans to keep Jess, The Retreat’s owner, David Proctor, isn’t willing to let her go without sending the so-called ‘perfect’ submissive on one final mission. Only if Jess succeeds in the task he sets her, will Proctor remove the collar of servitude he has locked around her neck.

With a list of five unfamiliar addresses to hand, Jess is placed in a car and driven away from The Retreat towards England. With no idea of what, or who, awaits her at each location, all Jess can hope for is that the journey will eventually take her back to where she belongs.

To the fifth floor of the Fables Hotel, where Miss Jess Sanders truly knows her place.

Knowing Her Place follows on from The Fifth Floor and The Retreat.

Available from:

Amazon UK
Amazon US
Amazon AU
Amazon CA
Barnes & Noble
iBooks UK
iBooks US
Kobo – link coming soon.
Smashwords 

***

I hope you enjoy Jess’s climatic (in every sense of the word) finale.

Happy reading,

Kay xx

Jane Burrelli is Playing with Fire: Character Interview

Today I’m welcoming Jane Burrelli  back to my site with her latest installment in her Bridge of Fire trilogy- Playing with Fire. 

Let’s have a quick read of the blurb, and then listen in as Jane interviews some of her characters…

Blurb

When the gods breathed life into us they blessed us with an element, a pity they didn’t care to bless us with anything else.

Princess Nymira’s life changed forever when a coup forced her to flee north and in doing so she found herself mated to Zorren, the formidable Ice Lord. Their instant connection is undeniable but their budding relationship is not without challenges.

Mira must now face the open hostility of a foreign court as she attempts to carve out a niche at Zorren’s side. New enemies work tirelessly to drive a wedge between the newly mated pair and their tentative bond of trust is tested to the limit. Are Mira and Zorren strong enough to withstand the storm or will her most guarded secret drive them apart?

Forever.

Publisher’s Note: This is book two in the Bride of Fire Trilogy. This fantasy romance contains elements of danger, suspense, mystery, adventure, and sensual scenes set in an apocalyptic world.

Jane: Thank you for joining me this evening, for the official record can I please have you name?

Mira: Certainly, my name is Mira.

Jane: I mean you full name please, it’s not everyday that I get interview royalty. My that was a big sigh, surely a name cannot be that tedious?

Mira: Oh, it most definitely can. It must stay between us Zorren cannot know, it would make things even more precarious.

Jane: Of course, you can rely on my absolute discretion.

Mira: I am her Serene Highness, the Crown Princess Nymira of the House Pyria, direct descendant of Fa-Rahzil the first Emperor of Fire, daughter of Princess Eliska of the house Pyria and the Scourge of the West Lord Castro of the house Vatra, granddaughter of Emperor Ageiz II, Defender of the sacred flame, Heiress to the Throne of Flames.

Jane: *Owl eyes* Wow, that is some name.

Mira: Exactly.

Jane: Let’s start with a few easy questions; do you have any siblings?

Mira: No, due to longevity of our natural life spans we do not reproduce easily and as such siblings are rare, but I have a cousin, Xhara, we are like sisters. We were forced to split up when I acted as a decoy so that she could escape.

Jane: I see, and what’re your parents like?

Mira: My parents were Princess Eliska of the house Pyria and the Lord Castro of the exiled house Vatra. I barely remember them as they were assassinated when I was very young, but the story of their mating is infamous throughout the Firelands. My mother dared to defy the emperor and fell in love with the enemy. It made things a little strained when I went to live in the capitol.

Jane: Would you say you’re someone who can handle pressure?

Mira: I was raised in the court of my aunt, Empress Faustia II, what do you think? Expectations were placed on me from an young age and I learnt how to conduct myself as a member of the royal house, so it takes something exceptional to rattle me.

Jane: Let’s make the questions a bit harder, do you have any enemies?

Mira: I currently have a bounty on my head. The usurper who murdered the Empress, seeks to either kill me or imprison me which forced me to flee North.

Jane: When you fled north you must have been traveling light, what’s your most valued possession that you carry?

Mira: When I fled I carried my nation’s most sacred treasure, the sword of the first Emperor. It is priceless. Forged from the metal of a falling star it is the only weapon that allows tmy line to channel their greatest weapon. The sacred white flame that can burn through anything.

Jane: Your worst fear? You don’t have to answer this one if you don’t want to.

Mira: Failing to do my duty and not being strong enough to complete the task set to and being an embarrassment to the crown. My power – my inner flame is – lacking. My cousin, the next empress has started to produce the white flame that identifies our line and I..can’t…my power is mediocre at best.

Zorren: There you are!

Mira: Zorren? What is the meaning of this interruption?

Zorren: You disappeared, again.

Mira: I did not, just because you are paranoid-

Zorren: -and I wonder why that might be? Perhaps because you have a terrible habit of attempting to skulk away.

Mira: I do not skulk!

Jane: Now, surely we can be reasonable now, Zorren please stop icing up my floor, you are causing a health and safety hazard.

Zorren: What is a health and safety hazard?

Jane: It’s where – oh never mind.

Zorren: Do you remember what I said would happen the next time you wondered off, Hellcat.

Mira: You wouldn’t dare and stop calling me Hellcat.

Jane: Mira, please extinguish your hands, that sofa is highly flammable.

Mira: Zorren! Zorren put me down! I am not a sack of grain.

Jane: Apologies readers, we’ve had an unexpected interruption. Mira, has been carried off by one, highly determined Ice Lord and I don’t believe we will be able to reconvene anytime soon. But until that time, happy reading!

Purchase Links

Amazon Author Page UK: https://amzn.to/2GI6gdc

Amazon Author Page US: https://www.amazon.com/Jane-Burrelli/e/B01ACPOKD0/

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Here’s a short extract…

Sharing the same breath as his lips gently brushed mine, he asked, “Tell me what you want?”

“To stop with the games and fuck me,” I snapped impatiently rolling my shoulders.

White briefly flashed in his eyes. “There is that word again,” he growled low in his chest. “This is not a fuck.” Bending, he claimed my lips for another drugging kiss. Hot and demanding.

“What is it then?” I demanded with a defiant toss of my head. “A claiming.” My body shivered at the primal statement. He plucked my nipple unexpectedly, lightning arced through me and I thrust my chest up. At last. “When your body will acknowledge mine as its master.” Gazing down at me, his eyes sparked at the possessive words, drinking in every dip and curve. I had nowhere to hide.

“Never.” The word didn’t come out as certain as I wanted. It was not a promising response. Large warm hands cupped my breasts, taking their weight as his heat seeped into my flesh. While his thumbs made hypnotic circles, his firm lips focusing on the sensitive area between my neck and shoulder. I tried to remain still and unmoved. A simple answering of urges had become a battle of wills, one I would not lose. Zorren smirked and my core quivered. “As my mate, you won’t be able to help it, Mira, you are helpless, the same as I.”

Bio

When I realised that the world was not hiring for a ‘sarcastic but benign Supreme Ruler of the Universe’ I’ve decided to focus on my passion. By day I work in a UK company’s finance department and by night I become my alter ego Scribble Girl or as my good friends have affectionately dubbed me the ‘sex author’. Always armed with a notepad and pen in the black hole I call a handbag, I have been writing never ending stories since the age of 11 and this all stemmed from my love of reading.

I love reading. Period!

I’m part of the Harry Potter generation and while waiting between books would literally devour any book I could get my hands on. Let’s put it this way J.K Rowling has a lot to answer for. I adore that there is no end in sight to where your own imagination can take you and that between the pages of a book you are transported to another world.

Happy Reading!

Jane x

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/14842736.Jane_Burrelli

Twitter: https://twitter.com/blushingburreli

Facebook Page: https://www.facebook.com/janeburrelli/

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/janeburrelli/

Pintrest: https://www.pinterest.co.uk/janeburrelli/

Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/profile/jane-burrelli

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Thanks Jane!

Happy reading everyone,

Kay x

 

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