Explicit EXCERPT from Precious Sacrifice
He walked into view at the other end of the row of parked cars, blocking out the taxi waiting for her with its engine idling, and he turned and headed toward her. Long dark coat. Mean look in his eyes...or where his eyes would be. His face was shrouded in darkness. He just looked bad.

Brittany’s throat closed in. Breathing, who needed it?

Big man, as in fucking huge, and with a totally deliberate way of moving. Every step was calculated. Like a lone stranger walking into a lowlife Wild West town, about to rescue the folks from the two-gun killer kid. She could hear the theme song from The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly playing.

All he was missing was a Stetson and a pair of six guns.

Headlights from a passing car flickered over him. His face...oh god. He definitely needed a hat to pull over that. Were those parallel scars running across his cheeks? Or tattoos made up to look like American Indian war paint? Whatever. They were red and scary. Only he surpassed scary by a mile. She took a half-step back, surprised the man wasn’t snorting steam out his nostrils.

But he smelled good. From yards away. Was that even possible? Mm-Mmm. It took all her determination not to squeal, run down the aisle between the parked cars, and jump his bones then and there. Loose stones on the concrete cracked under his boots. A breeze blew the front of his coat wide. She caught a glimpse of a wide, well-built torso that stretched his pants and shirt with a real man’s body.

Shit. Was that metal glinting there? Holsters? No. Couldn’t be. Unless he was a cop?

Fear reared its head. He wouldn’t be looking for her. Get the fuck outta his way.

Jarred into self-preservation mode, Brittany cleared her throat and squeezed back against the bus she was walking beside to allow him to shimmy past. Not that a man like this would ever shimmy. He’d saunter or stalk but never ever shimmy.

What would it be like to be underneath him being...

Shut up. She took a deep breath and held it when he seemed about to pass her.

Don’t faint. Unladylike.

Then he grabbed her under her shoulders, lifted her a few inches, and slammed her flat against the bus with enough force to frighten her but not hurt. Startled, she sucked in air.

His scent swept her awareness of danger far, far away and replaced it with pure unadulterated LUST.

Her pussy flooded instantly. She shut her eyes. Not Niagara Falls wet, just enough to make slippery every part of her down there, enough that a man could slide his cock right in without a second’s hesitation. That. Wet.

She inched open her eyes and found him staring down at her. Brutal and callous was her instantaneous impression. 

Out March 5th

From Precious Sacrifice in Kept, the erotic anthology

Explicit EXCERPT from Precious Sacrifice
He walked into view at the other end of the row of parked cars, blocking out the taxi waiting for her with its engine idling, and he turned and headed toward her. Long dark coat. Mean look in his eyes...or where his eyes would be. His face was shrouded in darkness. He just looked bad.

Brittany’s throat closed in. Breathing, who needed it?

Big man, as in fucking huge, and with a totally deliberate way of moving. Every step was calculated. Like a lone stranger walking into a lowlife Wild West town, about to rescue the folks from the two-gun killer kid. She could hear the theme song from The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly playing.

All he was missing was a Stetson and a pair of six guns.

Headlights from a passing car flickered over him. His face...oh god. He definitely needed a hat to pull over that. Were those parallel scars running across his cheeks? Or tattoos made up to look like American Indian war paint? Whatever. They were red and scary. Only he surpassed scary by a mile. She took a half-step back, surprised the man wasn’t snorting steam out his nostrils.

But he smelled good. From yards away. Was that even possible? Mm-Mmm. It took all her determination not to squeal, run down the aisle between the parked cars, and jump his bones then and there. Loose stones on the concrete cracked under his boots. A breeze blew the front of his coat wide. She caught a glimpse of a wide, well-built torso that stretched his pants and shirt with a real man’s body.

Shit. Was that metal glinting there? Holsters? No. Couldn’t be. Unless he was a cop?

Fear reared its head. He wouldn’t be looking for her. Get the fuck outta his way.

Jarred into self-preservation mode, Brittany cleared her throat and squeezed back against the bus she was walking beside to allow him to shimmy past. Not that a man like this would ever shimmy. He’d saunter or stalk but never ever shimmy.

What would it be like to be underneath him being...

Shut up. She took a deep breath and held it when he seemed about to pass her.

Don’t faint. Unladylike.

Then he grabbed her under her shoulders, lifted her a few inches, and slammed her flat against the bus with enough force to frighten her but not hurt. Startled, she sucked in air.

His scent swept her awareness of danger far, far away and replaced it with pure unadulterated LUST.

Her pussy flooded instantly. She shut her eyes. Not Niagara Falls wet, just enough to make slippery every part of her down there, enough that a man could slide his cock right in without a second’s hesitation. That. Wet.

She inched open her eyes and found him staring down at her. Brutal and callous was her instantaneous impression. 

THE GRAND PRIZES FOR THE HOP