Saturday, June 28, 2014

Cover Redesign for Invincible by Alana Albertson


by Alana Albertson

Publication Date: March 9, 2014

Purchase from: AmazonNookKoboiBooks

Add to Goodreads.
I’ll be honest with you—I’m no hero. Sure, the media tries to brand every Navy SEAL as some kind of Batman dressed in cammies. There’s even a line in one of our cadences: Superman is the man of steel, he ain’t no match for Navy SEAL. You’ve seen the movies—we’re infallible, invaluable, invincible. But that night, the one you read about in the papers … all I really wanted to do was get laid. One harmless fuck with an Aruban whore, no strings attached. I picked her out of a lineup—wild, dark hair, long legs and a crooked smile.

After she sucked me off, I relaxed back onto the creaky, cum-stained cot, thankful for the blissful moments she gave me when I actually forgot for a second the faces of my buddies who died because I made the wrong call, the tears of the children I couldn’t save, and the eyes of the enemies I slaughtered during their last seconds of life. But before I left, her hazel eyes peered into my soul.
She whispered in a distinct Californian accent, “My name is Annie Hamilton. I’m an American citizen. I was kidnapped on spring break five years ago.

You’re my last hope. Please save me.” One desperate plea. This wasn’t a Hollywood blockbuster or a New York Times best-selling thriller. I knew this time there was no room for excuses, no margin for errors. I had one chance to put on the cape and be her hero.

Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

Expanded edition, with Annie's POV, 15,000 more words, new twist, more emotion.

This is a full length novel, 60,000 words. New Adult Romantic Thriller.

This book is intended for readers 18+.

About Alana Albertson

Alana Albertson is the former President of both Romance Writers of Americas’s Young Adult and Chick Lit chapters and the founder of Academe Advantage, a college admissions & test preparation company. Alana Albertson holds a Masters of Education from Harvard University and a Bachelor of Arts in English from Stanford University.
A recovering professional ballroom dancer, Alana currently writes contemporary romance and young adult fiction. She lives in San Diego, California, with her husband, two young sons, and four dogs. When she’s not spending her time needlepointing, dancing, or saving dogs from high kill shelters through Pugs N Roses, the rescue she founded, she can be found watching episodes of House Hunters, Homeland, or Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders: Making the Team.

Promo: Learning to Love Again by Cynthia P. O'Neill

Title: Learning to Love Again
Author: Cynthia P. O'Neill
Published: June 8, 2014
Genre: Romance  

SYNOPSIS: **This book is intended for mature audiences, age 18+, due to strong sexual content and language.**

Control can be a wonderful feeling, especially when you’re an alpha like Garrett Waters. But how do you control a beast from the past intent on destroying everything you hold dear? He’d already lost his parents and aunt, but now threats against him, his fiancĂ©, Laurel Hart, and their unborn child pushes him into hiding to try and protect all he cares for.

Can he outsmart Walt Peterson and regain control or will he lose everything he’s come to trust and love, including his own life? Laurel Hart’s life has been upended, with one traumatic event after another, but she’s survived thanks to her family and Garrett. She’s learned to trust in Garrett’s love for her; letting go of her past, and his, has opened her up to the idea of learning to love again. Will her trust and affection be short lived with Chase Peterson hot on her trail, determined to make her his, or will justice prevail and allow them to finally live in peace and have their happily ever after?

It will be a heart pounding race to the finish for both Garrett and Laurel, with surprises around every corner.

Excerpt #1 – Learning to Love Again, Learning Series #3

I could feel my body shivering over the thoughts roaming around in my mind and soon felt the comfort of an extra blanket being pulled over me and the warmth of a warm body surrounding me. I jumped at the contact of an arm wrapping around my waist. “No need for alarm, darling, it’s just me,” Garrett whispered softly into my ear as he placed a gentle kiss along the side of my neck. I opened my eyes slowly and turned towards him, letting my head fall against his shoulder and snuggling deeper into his form, breathing in his intoxicating vanilla musk fragrance. He cradled me closer as one of his hands ran soft strokes up and down my spine.

I rubbed my nose against his until his lips found mine. His tongue traced the outer edges of my mouth, nipping me on the corner with his teeth, causing me to open right before he plunged in. I could feel his manhood harden against my thigh as his hands began to feel upwards towards my breasts, squeezing them firmly. I felt lost in the moment until he pulled back. “Laurel, we need to stop.” But why? My heart shattered. The fear of rejection coursed through me, wondering if I’d hurt him to the point he didn’t want me anymore. I quickly turned on my side and scooted away from him, but not before he pulled me back against his full length. He kissed the side of my neck and nuzzled into it, breathing in my scent. “It’s not that I don’t want you.

You have no idea how badly I want to tie you to this bed so I know you won’t run from me again, and take you with everything that I have.” He turned me so I could see his face. “I need you, but we’re on approach for the airport and will be landing in ten minutes. That’s not enough time to do everything I crave. We’ll have to wait until we get back to the penthouse and let everyone see that you’re okay first.” I realized what he was saying and started to get up and collect my shoes so I could return to my seat for landing. I was reaching for the door when I felt him press up against me and whisper, “Just wait until everyone leaves tonight, because then you’re mine!” he growled as he bit gently into my earlobe and thrust his manhood against my bottom. He always did know how to take my breath away.


Author Bio – Cynthia P. O’Neill:

Cynthia P. O’Neill grew up in Clewiston, Florida and moved to Central Florida to attend college. There, she married her friend, love, and soul mate and still resides with their amazing son, and a feisty, four-legged little boy. In her books, Cynthia draws on her background in healthcare and business, along with her husband’s engineering knowledge.

Cynthia currently writes on all levels of Romance. The Remembrance Series encompasses Young Adult, with a touch of Paranormal activity and a hint of Historical romance. The Learning Series is for those who like a little more steam with their books, falling into the categories of New Adult, Contemporary and verging on Erotica, with a hint of suspense. She tries to make her writing very personal and close to her heart. Regular life is the inspiration for her books, but her imagination takes them to new heights, opening up possibilities that would normally not exist.

To learn more about the author, please visit Cynthia’s website at:
Other links to follow Cynthia at:
Web Links -

Other books in this series:
Learning to Trust (Learning Series) Book 1
Publication Date: November 17, 2013
  learning to trust book 1
***Due to strong sexual content and language, this book is suitable for mature audiences only. Ages 18+***
When Garrett Andrews finds something that catches his eye, he goes after it, letting nothing stand in the way of what he wants to possess. The first woman to arouse his heart could be the one person who helps him to finally open up and feel again. Laurel Hart was a swimming champion until a frightful event and unknown health issues derailed her career.
With a recent degree from MIT in Bio-Medical Engineering and an offer to join one of the leading innovators of medical equipment in the world, she plans on making a new life for herself; letting nightmares from her past stay in the past, or so she thinks. Neither of them wants to date, but she finds herself drawn to him and Garrett uses every excuse to be near her. Laurel’s afraid to let anyone get close, but finds solace in his arms.
Garrett is finally able to be himself around someone. Together, they discover a connection that manages to soothe both their souls and starts opening them up to new possibilities. Once Garrett finds out about Laurel’s past, all rules in regards to "relationships" are changed, because one false move could drive her away. He attempts to calm her nightmares and gain her trust so he can show her who he really is and the relationship he desires from her.
Will they be able to overcome the damage their hearts have encountered? Can they find happiness? Can they trust their minds or will life throw each of them another curveball? Only time will tell if they can learn to trust.
Learning to Let Go (Learning Series) Book 2
Publication Date: February 5, 2014

learning to let go book 2
**Due to strong language and sexual content, this book is intended for mature audiences only, ages 18+**
Garrett Andrews has controlled every aspect of his life for as long as he can remember. Whatever he wanted, he took, especially when it came to Laurel Hart. She was the first person to make his heart skip a beat and capture his soul, allowing part of his control to slip, which uncovered his lie and destroyed her trust in him.
Laurel now lays battered and broken thanks to Chase Peterson, a stalker from her college days, who won’t accept no for an answer. Garrett is determined to win her back, obsessing over her care in an attempt to heal both her body and her mind. He will go to any lengths to earn back her trust and teach her to let go of the past, but can he follow his own advice and let down his own walls?
They struggle to overcome their issues and soon Chase is after her again, fixated on staking his “claim” with a startling revelation that links both the past and present. Can they find happiness with each other or is there too much to overcome? Only time will tell if they can learn to let go.

Buy Links for Learning to Love Again:
Amazon: U.S. U.K. CA Barnes&Noble Smashwords

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Cover Reveal: Forgiveness by AJ Best

Forgiveness - Happy Anniversary


Cover Reveal Tour Banner

Title – Forgiveness

Author – AJ Best

Genre – Erotica

Publication Date – 6/28/14

Length (Pages/# Words) - 6,000

Publisher – Secret Cravings Publishing

Cover Artist – Dawne Domonique



Mary is prepared for the anniversary of a lifetime. Ten years of wonderful memories fill her mind. She can’t wait to see what the next ten will bring. When her plans for early morning seduction fail, her mind jumps to worst case scenarios.

Joe’s attention, focused elsewhere, may be the straw that breaks the camel’s back. Will he be able to come up with a good reason for forgetting their anniversary?

As the day continues, will the answers Mary finds leave her in tears? Will she find the next ten years dreams shattered before her? Only Joe holds the answers to the questions her heart asks.

Amazon Kindle Link – Barnes & Nobles Nook Link – Goodreads Link – Shelfari Link

Forgiveness - 2 Years


It seemed more and more lately that no matter how hard she tried, he looked right through her. It was infuriating and heart breaking. She'd had enough heartbreak during the past year to last her a lifetime. Her mother had been sick battling cancer all last year. Unfortunately she’d lost the battle. She’d made sure to pass on information to Mary while on her deathbed though.

Something Mary had never seen coming. She was adopted. Her world felt as if she had lost all control.

The adoption information that her mother had left with her will quickly found its way into the trash. Why would she want to find someone who didn't want her? She had enough instances of that in her own home. She did wonder, after a year, if she had reacted too rashly. You never know when you'll need family, and if she met her biological mother maybe she could figure out who she was, inside and out.

Mary plopped herself on the bed and let out a huge rush of air. There was no way Joe hadn’t noticed her outfit. She had bought it specifically for their ten-year anniversary night.

She remembered how she had anxiously awaited this evening and decided that she would make it perfect no matter how she was feeling. Every year on this day, they left the house at four twenty five and drove to the lake where he had romantically declared his undying love and proposed to her. He always hired a horse drawn carriage. The prancing steed would take them from the lake to a lovely candlelit dinner for two. After having one too many glasses of wine and a wonderful meal, they would enjoy a leisurely stroll to the theater. Wicked was currently playing on Broadway, and she couldn’t wait to hear the music that made her soul dance and her heart soar. Re-reading the book several times had her excited, and she knew the night would be perfect.

Then reality reared its ugly head.

Carefully she unlaced her corset and tossed the silky white thong in the corner; it still held the dampness from her unquenched desire.

"I can't believe I wasted my time and effort on this. Sometimes my husband is such a jerk," when she took a look around it dawned on her that she was talking to herself. Another deep breath and swish of hair and she mused, "I guess its okay to talk to myself as long as I don't answer back, huh CC?"

She slipped her silk robe on quickly and snatched the cat from his slumberous repose. He squirmed to free himself but Mary kissed his little nose first. "Don't be like your daddy, at least notice I'm here." She placed the cat gently on the bed and started her morning ritual. Getting ready for work was the last thing she was interested in.

Forgiveness - Author Photo


Writing books has been a long time in coming for me. When I was younger, my father and I lived in a town where a kid could run the streets all ‘willy nilly’. When I was old enough to babysit myself I was off and running. To where you may ask, the library. At the time the library was in an old shop on a street in town. The children’s books were in the back room and that was where I spent my days. I was never without an adventure in my hands, and I never failed to finish the summer reading program with books to spare. My love for reading didn’t stop there. My mother is an avid reader and she acquired most of her books from a exchange shop. You would purchase your books there, and return them for partial credit and get more. One night I was left with a bag of to be returned books. It was a Piers Anthony book, Night Mare to be exact. I devoured that book and any other that he has written. I currently am the proud owner of at least 70 of his books. I’m working toward getting them all, I wish he’d quit writing so quickly.

The writing bug caught me when my 12th grade English teacher wanted to use MY essay to show the class. He put it on projector film and everything. I was so excited. The assignment was to pick a month and write about it. Of course, being the child that I was I had to be difficult about it. The rest of the class chose June, July, April and went on and on about how lovely and warm and all of the fun things you can do. Mine was about December. I still remember the first line (and may have the transparency somewhere in my mess); December spreads her snow-filled wings and covers our world in cold despair.

From that paper on, you couldn’t stop me from writing. I found a few poems I had typed on an actual manual typewriter, and became a poet. I had a recurring nightmare, I wrote it down. I dreamed a dream and if I could remember it (which is harder now that I am older) I wrote that too.

In 2003 I started my first full blown manuscript. I still only have four chapters completed, but I swear I will finish it someday. I guess the short attention span has brought me full circle on writing short stories.

So, I guess that’s where I am today. Waiting for the first query letter to come through and make me a published writer. People ask me if I am a writer, and I firmly believe and tell them YES. I write, so that makes me a writer. I may not be published yet, but I will be.

I absolutely love to get email though sometimes with the scattered mind of a writer it takes a few days to get back to you! So please forgive me if I don’t get back to you right way, but I CERTAINLY will get back to you! - See more at:


Amazon Author Page – Website/Blog – Facebook – Twitter

Anniversary Reveal Organized By:

Friday, June 27, 2014

Addictive Summer Reads Event: Keeping Secrets by Kiru Taye

Loads of BOOKS on SALE and plenty of GIFT CARDS to GIVEAWAY.
Grand Prize worth $115!

You can pick up a copy of Keeping Secrets by +Kiru Taye, Author for just $0.99 this weekend ONLY.

Release Day Blitz: Wicked Innocence by Missy Johnson

Cover Reveal   Wicked Innocence
by Missy Johnson
Publication Date: June 27, 2014

Synopsis: Don’t let my petite and innocent appearance fool you, because I’m one person you don’t want to cross. I’m Micah, the youngest member of Resurrection…If only they knew how young. My fake ID says I’m twenty-one.
And I will be…in four years. What can I say? I blossomed early. Home sucked, so I left, determined to do something with my life. Landing the gig as lead vocalist in the band was a dream come true. I’ve worked hard to make something of myself and nothing is going to ruin that for me. Then He showed up. He’s hot as hell and so into me. But he’s also twenty-five. I don’t want to lie to him, but if the truth comes out I’ll lose everything, including him.  

About the Author: Missy lives in a small town in Central Victoria with her husband, and her confused pets (a dog who think she’s a cat, a cat who thinks he’s a dog…you get the picture).
When she’s not writing, she can usually be found looking for something to read.


Special Weekend Sale!


Waiting for the prices to drop!
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Cover Reveal: Luke [My Way Series] by H.J. Bellus

Cover Model: Sean Smith
Cover Designer: Wicked by Design
Releasing Late Fall 2014

Life has never been the same since she left...

Booze helps dull the heartache at times and others it only fuels my anger. 

Fights don’t matter. Win or lose its all the same shit. night, one fight.

Who knew one night would change everything. She’s back, and my heart doesn’t 

stand a chance. 

But this may be a fight I’m willing to lose.

About the Author
I am an independent author excited about releasing my first novel very soon. A big dream coming true!!! I'm all country...the kinda country where green grass grows and corn pops up in Miranda and her bad ass music!!! Just a simple country girl getting one story out of her head at a time...I always fall hard for a trucker style hat...especially if it's a John Deere hat....loves me a good ol' farm boy!!!!!!

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Release Day Blitz: Saving Abel (Rocker Series: One) by Gina Whitney

Title: Saving Abel (Rocker Series: One)
Author: Gina Whitney
Genre: Erotica BDSM
Blurb: Abel Gunner, the lead singer of the band Lethal Abel, is what beautiful nightmares are made of. His gritty, melodic rasp threatens to rip your heart out of your chest and leave you gasping for the very breath he robbed you of. His kisses, detonating on impact, leave you ruined. Abel is also a Dom, and his appetite for seduction is legendary and intense. After a chance encounter with Gia, his need to dominate this woman increases tenfold. He wants to consume her, merge with her, and never leave her body. Abel's emerald eyes touch the deepest part of Gia's soul in a way that terrifies her. She fears he can see her secret. Lies, guilt, and betrayal lay beneath her skin, and she's terrified of being exposed. How will Gia ever begin to explain? She doesn't believe she's worthy of him, and her greatest fear is that her carefully guarded heart will be shattered. However, she finds herself unable to deny this rogue tattooed rocker whose kisses just might ruin her.

Author Bio: Gina Whitney grew up reading Judy Blume, and Nancy Drew books. She was raised in the town of North Valley Stream, New York(Long Island)and attended community college for fashion design. At 19 she opened a boutique. She recently published her first paranormal romance novel Blood Ties. When she's not writing, she's hanging with family and friends.
She shares a home with her wonderful son’s PJ and Drew, and their 200lb Mastiff Hercules. She currently lives in Massapequa, New York. Reading has always been a passion and obsession. You can usually find her typing furiously while shouting obscenities over her latest work. She also enjoys a good laugh, being snarky, espresso, and above all steamy swooning angst filled novels. She's pathologically obsessed with True Blood(Eric ;), Games of Thrones, Borgias, Vampire Diaries and Originals. You can also find her chatting it up with readers on Facebook.


On ecru initialed paper
the understanding was brutally clear … You’re to be blindfolded and waiting on your knees
for your Master. I reread a couple of times, my hands shaking with both fear of
the unknown and the excitement of being delivered to the brink of aching
pleasure. Man, I was fucked!

Folding the note in
half perfectly seaming the edges, I wondered if I was biting off more than I
could chew. The fluttering in my stomach mounted to upchuck levels as I picked
up the Hermes silk scarf. I gentled it along my cheek before breathing in his
alpha scent. Him. My eyes closed of
their own accord, heart beating in concert with my pussy.  My clit was charged and primed already with
my juices, the inner demonness
scratching the surface of my psyche, relentlessly thrashing against

Twirling around in a
sexual dream-state, my eyes took in floor-to-ceiling windows, lush drapes
pulled back. Gasping heavily, I held my hand over my heart to keep the fucker
in there. Was he planning to take me in the open—voyeur delight?  I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. Then
again this was about surrendering. A place my control had no say.

On the left was a
free-standing bar, his guitar leaning against it.  Chrystal decanters lined the top.
Amber-colored courage called out to my parched throat, begging, needing
something to quell the tremors plaguing my body. I couldn’t. Could I?  Or was that breaking the rules? I couldn’t
afford to piss him off, nor did I want to. I wanted to please him, to hand over
the keys to my soul for him to take up occupancy. I needed to take purchase of
the prime piece of real-estate—his heart.

Old demons besieged me
with their clever mind tricks, fighting their way to the surface—sneering that
I would lose the man I’d come to love because of my deceitful heart. The mother
of all motherfucking karma’s was going to bite my ass—hard. I needed to lock
these incessant nauseating thoughts where they belonged—behind a door that had
no moral key and slam it shut.

Looking to the left, I
saw the fire raging in the pastoral-styled fireplace. Above me, the erotic
portrait of Abel loomed. In one hand he was holding a set of handcuffs, and in
the other a red scarf—the exact red scarf I was now holding in my hand.

Perfect spot!
Unbuttoning my pants and blouse, letting them both pool at my feet, I then took
off my bra and panties. Flames licked my skin, helping to ease the goose bumps
stepping out all over my body. Double-knotting the scarf, I lowered myself to
my knees, thankful for the plush carpet. I sent a silent prayer of gratitude
upwards—even though God had no place here today. Today, I would be rejoicing,
reveling in and partaking of rituals practiced by heathens.

Tempering my breathing,
I thought to myself: Namaste. But
then the squeak of the door knob stopped all thought—all thinking—sending a
shiver down my spine.  His innate
maleness seeped into my pores, cocooning my skin in his alpha scent—marking my
heart as his. Instantly, my body
recognized him. An unwilling groan escaped me as my nether regions clenched in
anticipation. He just chuckled.


"Very good. I see
you followed my directions flawlessly. I see that beautiful pussy’s shaved bare
for me. This pleases me, Gia. And you will see how much very shortly. But, are
you ready for your Master?  If I part
your folds, will you be slick and hot for me?" His warm breath tickled my

My mouth opened and closed
a few times like a fish out of water, until I finally croaked out, "Um,
yes. I, um. I believe so, Abel.”  Christ,
why was I reduced to a stuttering adolescent? He was fucking dangerous and hot,
that was why! Steeling myself, I needed to woman the fuck up and show him who I
really was.

Palming my chin he
spoke gruffly. “Love, when we’re in this setting, I am your God, bringer of
pleasure and pain.” He released me, clearly awaiting my praises.

“Yes, Sir. I understand
perfectly,” I affirmed. My body chilled, knowing the moment he stepped away.
The ring of the crystal decanter signaled loudly in the air. Rolling shudders
had me clenching—hard. Moments ticked by at a snail’s pace, and I wanted to rip
my hair out, my frustration building as he took his time, leaving me in this vulnerable
position. He swallowed his drink. Padding back over in my direction, he brought
that delicious signature scent of his my way. It smelled of musk and something wild I couldn’t put my finger on.

“I’m going to taste you
now,” he declared. What? Christ on a
motherfuckin’ cross!
Two thick fingers teased my clit round and round,
spreading my silky juices along my seam, preparing me for his invasion. I held
my breath. What else could I do?

“You smell like you
want to be fucked.” He smiled appreciatively. “Breathe, Gia. Your God would
like to sample you. I want to commit your taste to memory. Savor you on my
tongue. Swallow your goodness,” he rasped, leaning into my ear. I wanted to
scream just do it already. His beard
scruffed against my face as he lowered his mouth down to my ear. Every breath,
every heartbeat, every swallow, was mine, here. I had a front row seat to an erotic
movie I was starring in.

Holding my shoulders
firmly with his left hand, he roughly entered my opening. One breath in, one long breath out. With precision, he inserted two fingers inside me, keeping his thumb
on my trigger. I ground against his palm.

“You will not come—yet.
Stay still or I’ll stop,” he affirmed. Well, that did it! I needed release and needed it now. Fuck. Squeezing my eyes tightly, I was
thankful for the blind-fold. He had to see how challenging this was for me.
With a final stretching thrust he vacated my pussy. Pussy juice permeated the
air, releasing another gush of wetness. His sucking sound ended with a loud
pop, followed by a growl of approval.

“Taste.” He fisted my
hair, driving his fingers into my open mouth.

“Taste how sweet your
pussy is?” he queried. I had the perfect opportunity to bring him to his knees.
My tongue languidly snaked its way around his fingers, sucking greedily any
remaining ambrosia—with my own kickass resounding pop. Umm… I purred my contentment. 

A seismic roar rumbled
its way free from his alpha chest. Oh, he was affected. Breaking dominant
control momentarily, he lunged forward, fisting my hair, his tongue forcing my
mouth open. Damn this Dom! My lungs
fought for air. My hands braced against his muscled chest, alive with the
vibrations from the beast tethered within—Abel.
Dizziness threatened to take me under. Pulling air into my nose, I took a deep
breath. Consuming me from the inside out, he didn’t let up. Apparently, my
survival was to be damned. Now I needed to return his kiss. My hands found
their way up his neck to his thick hair.  Grabbing a fistful, I pulled. He answered my
call with his masterful tongue and gnashing teeth. Needing his cock in my pussy
now, I reached for it, feeling its thick steeliness through his jeans. He
gently removed my hands.  Disappointed, I
lowered my head, taking the opportunity to nourish my blood with oxygen. He
forced my hands behind my back. I sat on the back of my knees to steady myself.

“You have to earn that,
babe. You haven’t earned my cock yet. And he has a bigger ego then I do.” He
chuckled as he stood up, leaving me again. Was
he serious? His dick had an ego?

Some shuffling of
drawers opening and closing to my left had me turning my head in that
direction. My legs tingled with anticipation and lack of activity. I hoped I
wasn’t going to be on my knees too much longer. The snap of something caught my
immediate attention. Licking my dry lips, swallowing the golf ball-sized knot,
I readied myself. Sweet-smelling leather assailed my senses.

“Do you know what the Cat o' nine tails is, Gia?” he
asked. I had done some googling before this night, so I wouldn’t be ignorant to
basic BDSM—knots, whips and positions 101. I had schooled myself quickly.

“Yes, Sir. A
traditionally favored whip with nine separate tails,” I qualified. Quirking a
smile, I awaited his answer. He replied by running the tails along my breasts …
down to my pussy … snapping my clit to attention. Over and over again my body
became acquainted with this new form of torture. Legs shaking, I thrust myself to an upright
position, hoping this little exercise would stop this embarrassing bodily
display of minor earthquakes. No such luck. My body wanted to surrender to its
Master. My breathing ratcheted to panic-attack levels. An explosion of epic
proportions was near. Whack!—across
my behind. Ow! Fuck me!

“Not nearly yet,
sweetheart. That nice shade of red on your ass is making me hard as fuck,
though,” he countered. Well, that’s not how I really meant it, but that’s
exactly what I wanted—right the fuck now. He was turned on. And that turned me
on. If his lash marks on my skin did it for him, I thought—then so be it.

“I want to taste you, Master.
It’s only fair.” I was practically whining: throw
me a fucking bone!
This BDSM shit was killing me. I was not a patient
person by nature. So I deserved a reward for the restraint I’d been practicing
today. The sound of his zipper lowering caught my attention. The lava started
to trickle down my legs again.

“Is this what you want,
pretty girl?” He stepped up, smearing his pre-come on my lips. I moaned
embarrassingly loud.

“Yes! More!” I
demanded. He presented his cock to my tongue. It stroked his piercings. Fuck me.

Expertly I lavished it
with my tongue, paying homage to this rock God. Maybe his cock deserved its own
zip code? This was a locale I wanted to move to—like, now. Pushing forward I sought his engorged balls. Licking,
flickering, and tonguing at break-neck speed to the best of my ability, I made
him roar. He ripped the scarf off, freeing my eyes from their prison.

Although my sight was
restored, I still couldn’t see clearly. Squinting, I looked up towards his
beautiful face—and even through the blurriness, I could tell that it was
twisted in agony. He needed release. His eyes sparking with warning, he looked
as if his thread-like hold on reality was virtually nonexistent. A sardonic smile
wrenched his lips as he continued stroking his cock. Up. Down. Up. Twist. Down.
Release. Up. Twist. Down. Release. His left hand squeezed his tightened sack
roughly, his eyes glistening. His tongue snaked out to wet his plump lips. His
sooty-lashed eyes closed for a moment as he blew out a long breath, battling
for control. I gulped—hard. Something sparkly caught my upturned eyes, bringing
my gaze back to his sack.

“Like what you see,
babe?” He smiled proudly. His tatted cock was a kaleidoscope of vivid colors.
The body of the dragon was done in green with the underside in orange scales,
the whole length of his cock ending with the dragon’s head on his dick-head.
His Apadravya shone brightly against the dragon’s head, looking like it was coming out of its mouth. His Mons provided
the backdrop for the wings. He was a work of art I intended to worship fully. I
tilted my head awkwardly left, then right. The head of his dick was pierced,
and all along the dragon’s scaled underside were generous loops.

“Ya like those frenum
loops, babe? Ya like that one through the head, the Apadravya? You’ll be
thanking me soon for it.” His toothy smile made me blush at my naivetĂ©. He took
my lip-licking as a signal for further instruction in How to Suck Abel’s Cock

“Relax. Open real wide.
Get it nice and wet,” he instructed.

Relaxing my gag reflex
as per his orders, I readied my throat for his invasion. Not only did I have to
worry about his girth, but I had to guard against his hardware as well. My
mouth was desert-dry, so I pursed my lips to conjure up enough saliva to get
the job done. The wide tip of his cock made its way past my lips, netting a
groan from me of appreciation for this male, as I lavished the small beads of
pre-come on my tongue, relishing his heady taste. God damn. His hooded eyes caught mine as I acquiesced. I closed my
eyes and sucked his head hard with a quick swirl around his Apadravya. I spit
into my palm, pumping his cock once. Twice. His throaty groan made my clit
swell. I loved his male sounds. I knew I was doing this right. I wanted more.
More of him. More of that noise.
Widening my mouth even further, I took his cock in deeply, paying close
attention to his frenum loops with my tongue. The jingling within my mouth had
me shuddering. Up. Down. Twist. Suck. Tongue. Up. Down. Twist. Suck. Gag. Up.
Down. Twist. Suck. Gag. His fingers found their home, deeply embedding in my
scalp, the pain making my eyes mist. Licking from base to tip, I was on repeat.
His eyes bored into me, watching me intently, appreciatively.

So I gave him one final
swirling suck, letting my lips pop loudly. Then I tried the impossible:  to swallow him whole. Breathing through my nose, I watched. He watched. I swallowed.
The thickness of his cock swelling was all the indication I needed. He was
ready to blow—hard. My throat relaxed and opened to accommodate his girth further.
Abel hissed and thrusted deeply. Once. Twice. Three times. He growled loudly,
face-fucking me into oblivion. Surprising even myself, I swallowed his gift of
spicy goodness, humming my appreciation to this deity. Swallowing it down and tongue-sucking
his Apadravya, I inwardly smiled as I milked every last drop of elixir.


With a final groan I
fell back and let the fibers of the rug absorb my fatigue. Mentally and
physically, I was wiped out. I rubbed
my fingers through the filaments, trying desperately to soothe my restless
soul. At the moment, I didn’t care where he was or what he was doing. His
gentle fingers caressed my cheek. I closed my eyes, savoring his touch.

“Oh babe, we’re not
done. Come, I’ll carry you to my bedroom.” He bent down and scooped me up.
Swaddled in his arms, I caught the look in his hooded eyes. A few long strides,
and we were in his room. He gently laid me on his king-sized bed, then stepped

“I’m gonna take a quick
shower. Care to join?” He motioned his hand to the bathroom in invitation.

“Nah, I’m good here for
now. You go. If I change my mind, I’ll find you.” I smiled sleepily.

He nodded and left
through the en-suite. Raising myself up on my forearms, I took in the room.
Monochromatic black and white made up a majority of his palate choice, aside
from his poppy-red silk shantung comforter. Everything was simple, yet elegant.
It was clear that Abel sought the comfort of home and all of his familiar possessions.
I guessed life on the road really was lonely.

Cocooning myself in the
lush bedding, I concluded there was no better place to be. And no better thing
than his scent. Lord above, if I
could bottle his essence, I’d be a wealthy chick.  Grabbing his pillow I brought it to my nose,
inhaling his heady alpha smell. A groan escaped me, and my clit was beyond
engorged: it needed release—again. I
needed to steal this pillow

“Enjoying yourself?” he
asked, his smile reaching his eyes. I cursed inwardly. Busted. He reached for my legs and pulled me across the bed. Holy shit. His eyes were alit with
mischief. He pulled me until my bottom was at the end of the bed. I laid there
naked and began to feel self-conscious. I turned to grab the edge of the

“Don’t hide your body
from me, Gia. Spread your legs for me. I want to see what’s mine. I want to
taste your nectar,” he commanded—and I obeyed, spreading my legs.

When he didn’t respond,
I grew anxious. There was a mirror on the wall next to the bed and I could see
my reflection in it. What a turn-on. Me watching him—us, as his eyes devoured
my pussy. He removed his towel from his waist and turned to see me watching
tentatively in the mirror. He grabbed hold of his thick cock, stroking and
smiling, as he watched me for a good long-ass minute. This was all one big mind
fuck—and I was barely holding my own. My blood boiled while I watched his
erotic exhibition. Boy, was he ever a showman. He knelt down and seized both my
thighs, pulling them back into a V across my chest. The image of us in the
mirror was arousing. He pressed his nose along my pussy, inhaling deeply.

“You’ve got such a
pretty pussy, Gia. I’m a man starved for this pussy. When I’m done, I’m going
to fuck you like the devil. My cock will be everything you’ve wished for, babe.”
He winked. Cocky motherfucker.
Holding my legs in place, he dove face-first into my pussy, pushing his tongue
deep inside me—growling, devouring me whole. The sounds of him sucking,
licking, and nipping my pussy made my muscles lock up. I reached for his hair.
I needed to touch him. I wanted to hold his head to my pussy until I was good
and ready to let go.

“Gia, put your damn
hands above your head or I will tie you to the bed,” he growled. I acquiesced.
I would have fucking died or killed someone if he had stopped. Oh God, don’t stop.

“God has no place here,
babe.” His voice was demonic. Had I just said that aloud? Never lifting his
face from his meal, he pushed my knees almost flush against my chest, lathering
his face in my juice. Oh, God. His
growling, biting, and sucking were sounds I would never forget. He was feral.
Possessed. Using two fingers, he starting finger-fucking me as he sucked my clit.
My legs shaking with deep vibrations, I started to rock my hips. Twisting the
comforter in my hands, I began screaming. But he wouldn’t let up. The rumbling
from his chest I barely registered as I floated back down to earth. My eyes now
opened to a savage beast, leaning over to bite my inner thing. I yelped in
surprise. He stood tall and proud, stoking his long, thick, massive cock, his
face still glistening with my come. Nothing registered to this alpha. He had
one thing on his mind and that was sinking his gorgeous cock into my soaked

“You want this cock
now, babe?” he asked through gritted teeth.  Still stroking it, he spit in his hand. Fucking hell.

“Please, Abel. I want
you now,” I begged. I needed him now.

“Need to hear you say
it, babe. Tell me you want me to sink my cock deep in you.” His voice was
barely audible.

The grit in his tone
had me wanting to grab his dick and fuck myself with it. He was watching me
closely, his control threadbare.

“Abel, fuck me with
that big gorgeous cock of yours. Grind that piercing over my clit,” I hissed.
That did it! He couldn’t wait another minute—neither could I. He teased the entrance
with the head. Going agonizingly slow, he paid special attention to my clit
with his Apadravya: back and forth, round and round. The pressure mounted. I
couldn’t handle another second of the exquisite torture. I leaned forward and
grabbed his cock—hard.

“Stop fucking with me,
fucker, and fuck me already,” I pleaded. He answered by feeding me his cock—one
motherfucking inch at the time.

“I have to loosen you
up a bit. I can’t go balls-deep yet. Let me work myself in there. Love my girl
greedy for my cock. Gets me harder than fucking stone.” He growled
breathlessly. Leaning over me, his eyes hooded, he fed me his delicious, scorching
cock. He leaned down over my face, arms positioned on either side of my head.
His warm breath hummed in my ear, as his hand reached down to stroke my clit.

“Come on, babe. Open
for me,” he rumbled. Thrusting a bit harder and quicker, I felt my body
breaking apart for this mythical creature. My eyes closed tightly as I tried to
wrap my legs around his waist to lock him in place.

“Not yet, babe. I
haven’t worked in my rings yet. I’ll tell you when you need to hang on.” He
nipped my ear. I sighed. Fuck, I had thought he was all the way in! Christ, I
wasn’t built for this kind of torment. I reached down to his butt cheeks and
clamped down with my hands, pulling him deeper inside me. He corkscrewed his
ass over and over. I screamed in pleasure.

“That’s it, mama.
Scream for me. You’ll be doing a lot more of that,” he exclaimed. Biting my lip
to stay in the present and not float away, I took a mental screenshot of the
moment. I felt so full, with my walls stretched to accommodate his girth. With
each thrust he sank deeper. And I fell a little harder. Yeah, I was fucked.
Literally. The sound of my blood pumping through my veins roared in my ears. I
couldn’t tell if it was my breathing or his. It was a hodgepodge of ecstatic
noises. He placed his hands over mine, pinning them above my head.

“Arch your back for me,
babe, and spread those pretty legs nice and wide. I’m going to own this pussy
right the fuck now,” he hissed. I did as he asked, completely submitting. After
all, this was what he had asked for: total and utter submission.

“That’s it, babe. Offer
me that sweet cunt,” he whispered. How did he make my least favorite word sound
like a fucking sonnet? I felt so incredible—so alive, our bodies in tune with
one another, rutting rhythmically in a crescendo of lust, his frenum rings
hitting spots I’d never sensed before. He manipulated my body with expert
precision. I regarded his handsome face, relishing this beautiful man on top of
me. His eyes bore into me with stealth-precision. Looking directly into my soul,
he smiled wickedly, then kissed me deeply. Arrogant
. Yeah, he knew he was the best ride in town. Fuck me.

Grinding my heels into
the mattress to get better leverage, I met him thrust for thrust. He moved his
fingers from my clit. With his other hand still pinning my arms above my head,
he pushed my right thigh up from under my knee. Just then he hit a whole new
angle and I lost it. Screaming his name, I clenched my pussy, squeezing his
cock. As he jack-hammered me, I felt his head swell further. He released my
hands, rushing to his knees. After a few long strokes of his dick, his hot
thick ropes of come painted my tits and stomach. Yeah, he was an artist, all
right. His eyes were closed, his mouth parted. His breathing was hurried, his
body still. He looked like a fucking God—absolutely stunning. I would never get
this image out of my head.

He opened his eyes
finally—to see his handiwork, watching me closely. I smiled in post-coital
bliss. I was blissed the fuck out. He leaned over and on top of me, kissing me
with his full lips, coaxing my mouth open with his talented, wicked tongue, not
caring that his come was smeared all over his body. Most men would mind. But he
wasn’t most men.  I accepted his kisses with a moan.

He kissed me for a long
while until sleep drew me under. I slept without dreams, with just the sensation
floating behind my eyelids of colorful pastel swirls. If I had any conscious
thought it felt much akin to Alice and the rabbit hole. My body was enveloped
in his scent, marking me right down to the bone. I would forever be his—whether
he knew it or not. His to control. His to do with as he wished. His to consume,
to eat away at my very soul. I was in that deep. My veins ran with his essence,
the fuel, the nourishment, my body craved. His melodic gritty voice carried me
to the surface of consciousness. It was faint, but it spoke to my heart—awakening

I opened my eyes, seeking
him out. He was singing an a cappella
version of …? What song was that? I knew it wasn’t one of Lethal Abel’s. I
listened keenly, searching for any frame of reference. Oh, now I knew!  It was his version of Katy Perry’s “Dark
Horse.” His had an edge to it. Nonetheless, it was beautiful.  And more importantly, it was quintessential
Abel. He mastered everything he did, on his terms.

me your cupid—

me your one and only

don’t make me your enemy, your enemy, your enemy

you wanna play with magic

you should know what you’re falling for

do you dare to do this?

I’m coming at you like a dark horse

you ready for a perfect storm, a perfect storm?

once you’re mine, there’s no going back …

[Listen to OLN’s

His version of reality was quickly becoming mine. I laid back down and let his
voice pull me back under again, swathing me in his gravelly tones—carrying me
to him.