Sunday, April 28, 2019

Forgiven are the Starry-Eyed by Christine Doré Miller...


Forgiven are the Starry-Eyed
by
Christine Doré Miller

Genres: Contemporary, Young Adult
16+ due to sexuality, rape, and adult situations
Published by: Evernight Teen

Naive sixteen-year-old Andrea Cavanaugh is elated when Josh, a charismatic, bright-eyed piano prodigy, becomes her first boyfriend. But the closer she gets to him, the more she realizes that he is not the boy she first fell for. In its poignancy and emotional darkness, Forgiven Are the Starry-Eyed takes you deep into the delicate and devastating web of shame that spirals from the depths of dating violence when dreamy teenage love turns dark. Andrea must find not only an escape, but a belief that she is even worthy of freedom.

Links:
Evernight Teen: https://bit.ly/2UTGp9Y



Excerpt:
My eyelids closed as if they were being drawn down by sluggish, unhurried weights. When I forced them open after several seemingly endless moments, nothing had changed. I could still make out a blurry image of Josh standing nearby, Mr. Thompson's hands clenched firmly on Josh's shoulders from behind. There was a crowd, I think, and muffled voices. The steel school locker felt cold against my back and I recognized the familiar feeling that lately seemed to just dwell and ache in my bones. Fear, I think it was, mixed with just enough madness to keep the blood racing through my veins … fast. Too fast.
"Why did you do that, Andrea?" Josh shouted in my direction.
My eyes fell closed again. I don't remember what else he said. I just remember the feeling of each overly pronounced syllable piercing the air while he said it. I stared through the darkness that danced behind my heavy eyelids. What had I done?
I tried to pry open my hazy eyes to examine the faces of the expanding crowd as they stood, mouths agape. I only recognized a few. There were hardcover music books sprawled open on the tile floor at my feet. Confused, I looked to Josh, but the heavy silence of the room deafened any words he may have been saying. I gripped the ends of my soft, thin hair between my slender fingers and waited. Each thought sunk deeper than the last.
There was a poster taped sloppily against the locker behind me. I turned my head to face it and focused. The ends were curled up and there were ripples in the masking tape adorned to the edges. "Oakwood High School Invitational—TONIGHT" it read in handwritten purple block letters. There was a pixelated saxophone image pasted underneath the words, "Brought to you by Mr. Thompson and the Oakwood High Jazz Band." I brought my hand up to trace the edges. The poster board felt crisp and thick under my fingertips. I could smell the aftermath of the permanent marker. The loud reverberating voice behind me got softer until it resembled a deep echo I could easily ignore. I started to pick at the tape from the bottom left corner of the poster until I felt the sticky residue ball up underneath my fingernail.
Suddenly the life reentered my body in one abrupt breath when I felt a strong tug on my arm. I turned and saw Ethan Marks. Everyone else was gone. Had it been minutes this time? Hours?
"Andrea! Come on," he barked at me, interlacing my arm, tucking it quickly under his. He jerked me to a standing position and pulled me down the hall, speeding up his gate as I stumbled to catch up.
"Where's Josh?" I asked worriedly, but he didn't answer. We were silent as we walked through the empty hallway. I lifted my gaze, trying to catch Ethan's eye, trying to read his thoughts. His light blue eyes, usually sparkling with laughter, were steely and somber as he charged forward, dragging me with him, away from the wreckage I'd caused.
He stopped short and took a deep breath. His eyes were unyielding and dismal as they studied me, and slowly his frustration melted into a deep sadness.
"What happened, Andrea? What was that back there?"
"I don't know..." My voice began breaking. My thoughts were muddled beyond recognition and I couldn't form the right words, or any words, to explain.
Ethan wrapped himself around me in a gentle, firm embrace. It felt kind. And warm. And wonderfully different. My muscles unclenched for the first time in months, and I didn't know I was crying until I tasted the salt as it stained my face. I buried my head into Ethan's chest as he tightened his hold on me. I wanted him to say something, to tell me everything would be all right, but we both knew better. So we just stood there, Ethan supporting me as I clasped the back of his cotton t-shirt between my fingers.
After a few minutes, I fully returned to my body as my breathing calmed. I steadied my stance and took a step backward, shakily holding Ethan's forearms as I regained my balance. Wiping smudged mascara from my pale face, I met Ethan's eyes and quickly looked down, fixating on a crack in the tile below me.
"Hey," he started, "Andrea ... it's..."
"I'm okay. Ethan, I'm sorry. I'm sorry you had to ... I'm sorry I ... ugh your shirt." I motioned to the tear stains on his light green tee that crept from his chest to his shoulder.
"Oh God, don't worry about that. Andie, I just..."
"It's fine." I wiped my face and took a deep breath. "Thanks," I said, squeezing Ethan's hand and looking in his eyes sincerely, so he knew I meant it. "I should go. But thanks." I shook my head and turned around to walk back into the havoc and face what I had done. I felt Ethan staring at me as I left. He was just another person whose life would've been better if he hadn't met me. I swallowed, took a breath, and kept walking.
It was over for now, that latest incident, and there was no way to tell when there would be another one … but there would definitely be another one. I was too broken for it to be any other way.

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About the Author:
Christine lives in the Los Angeles area with her husband and their two children. She works full-time as a senior marketing manager for a large media company and holds a Bachelor's of Business Administration degree from Western Michigan University where she studied marketing. 
Growing up in the chilly midwest, she developed a deep passion for dramatic writing and alternative music at an early age, which still peaks through in her adult-corporate-mom life today. Forgiven Are the Starry-Eyed is Christine's debut novel.

Friday, April 12, 2019

Her Dom's Secret Past by Suzy Shearer...

Her Dom’s Secret Past
by 
Suzy Shearer

Heat Rating: Level 3
Word Count: 86,000

When Anabelle Rowley, fifty-five, takes a two-week break at an exclusive beach-front villa, she meets a man—but not just any man. Instead, this one ticks every box on her imaginary boyfriend list.

For fifty-two-year-old John Ethan, going on a short vacation to recover from injury and moving to Australia comes rather fast. Imagine his surprise when he meets a woman who arouses his every desire. 

Their holiday romance ignites fires in them both and this is something real, something long-lasting. But when Anabelle has to leave suddenly, neither has a way of finding the other again.

Will they ever be able to locate each other? And if they do, then John must reveal a secret, a secret that he fears Anabelle will never understand.

NOTE: This is told in 1st person POV from both the Hero and Heroine.

This is an erotic romance. There are explicit sexual descriptions and explicit language used throughout. It may offend some readers.

STORY EXCERPT:  
Somehow, I’d managed to keep on my feet when the big wave crashed over Anabelle and me. She surfaced, spluttering, and I held out a hand. She let me help her up and I held her hand a little longer than necessary.
“Thank you, John.”
“You’re welcome. That was one big wave.”
“Sure was, but it’s fun.”
She was still grinning and I couldn’t help myself. I leaned toward her and our lips touched.
It was all I’d dreamed of and more. It was electrifying.
Our kiss was soft, tender, and a little unsure until I felt her press toward me. I put a hand behind her head and deepened the kiss. Oh yeah, I could get used to this.
We finally separated and gazed at each other. Her eyes had dilated slightly and her lips parted as she stared into my eyes.
“I couldn’t resist.”
“I … neither could I, John.”
“I’d certainly like to do it again.”
“Then maybe you should.”
We stood there, the waves crashing around us, as I kissed her again. This time I took my time reveling in the taste of her, mixed with the salty water. Her hands pressed against my chest.
When we stopped, I whispered, “I’ve wanted to kiss you since I first saw you reading.”
“You have?”
I nodded and traced her lips. Her eyes seemed to shut of their own accord as my fingers explored her gorgeous, full mouth. When she opened her eyes, I decided I should kiss her again.
It was wild.
The surf pounding against us, the sound of the ocean, and Anabelle in my arms. Another big wave hit us and sent us both under. I grabbed her hand as we fought our way back up to the surface.
“Sadly I have to accept that kissing and big waves don’t mix very well.”
She gave another of her lovely carefree laughs.
© Suzy Shearer 2018
  



ADULT EXCERPT:  
I let my gaze roam all over her body, exciting me more. She was perfect in every way. I loved all her soft curves, or as she called them, “her wiggly bits”. I drank her in and crooked my finger, beckoning her closer. With only a little help from me, I made her climb onto the kitchen bench then set my stool between her legs. Today, I intended to make her wait. I was going to take her to the edge and back as many times as I could. 
Placing my hands on each thigh, I moved each leg apart and pulled her until she was right on the edge of the bench, at the perfect height for me. Running a finger up and down, I discovered she wasn’t a little moist, she was extremely wet. I let her rich juices coat my finger and licked it. 
“If you’re a good girl, I may let you come.”  Her beautiful green eyes widened in shock.
“What?” 
“You heard. Right now I’m in charge, so relax and enjoy.” 
Cupping my hand, I pushed a finger into her hot wet cunt while I leaned forward and breathed in deep. God, I loved the smell of her arousal. It was sweet. It added to my excitement. She was intoxicating. I licked her. She gave a little sigh. Right, time to tease. 
Using my fingers and my mouth, I fucked her until she tensed, and then I stopped. Glancing up into her face, it was a picture. I could tell she was excited, but at the same time a little annoyed. I waited until I knew the urge to climax had subsided. Then I began licking and fucking again. She leaned back on her elbows and began those little mewling sounds that she made.  
I loved them! 
Taking her to the edge time and time again, I could tell how frustrated she was as she pouted at me. I wondered simply how much longer it would be before she demanded her orgasm. I was enjoying myself a lot. The downside was I had a hard-on that was now painfully pressed against my shorts. 
Ah, the things we do for love. 
This time, when she was hovering on the edge, she tried to bring her legs together to keep my hand inside her. I laughed and shook my head. She bit her bottom lip and I figured this next time I’d let her come. Once more, I pushed a finger inside her, then another. In and out of that cunt. I loved the squishy noises it made as I began sucking and biting at her clit. She moaned louder and louder as the beginnings of her orgasm started again. 
“Don’t stop!” 
Her demanding scream echoed across the kitchen as I sucked on that bead. Drawing it in, I bit down hard with my mouth. If we ever got into a real Dom-sub relationship, she’d learn to behave. Still, at the moment, we were only two people enjoying each other’s bodies.
© Suzy Shearer 2018 



LINKS - WHERE TO FIND SUZY:                                                         

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