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Thursday, April 27, 2023
🏆💜2023 FAVORITE FAN COMPETITION💜🏆
Obedience by Liza Snow #RomanticSuspense
Excerpt:
I hadn’t needed to prompt her. She began, pulling herself upward, drawing those silks around her small frame as she went. Climbing high into the air as the two women began their duet. The French lyrics pulled me in every time. It was perhaps one of the reasons that while I simply tolerated most opera songs I’d heard, I adored this song.
Every time I heard it, every time I got lost in those little nuances of the language, it brought me back to summertime in Melun, France. Playing on the hills overlooking the city, lost in the grasses filled with wildflowers. Climbing into Meme’s apple trees. Perhaps the time in my life when it had felt so simple. All there were, were the memories of when I’d been happy.
And if there was any place I wanted to be, as I watched Cassandra ascending above me, knowing in seconds I would be right beside her, it was in those memories again. Bringing her with me.
The first stanza finished, and my mind immediately centered. My hands had already been wrapped in the silks without having to think about it. She paused, and I saw her attention drift downward. We fell captive to one another, and it was all I needed to see. I knew it was my turn to go to her. She was waiting for me.
In the same fashion she had moments earlier, I began my way up the silks beside hers, which had been a deep royal purple color. The entire time I made my way high into the room, I immersed myself in the French lyrics, the strings complimenting every rise and fall of the two women’s voices. Some moments, I’d lose myself in what I was doing, taking careful note of all the little adjustments my body was making. Other times, my attention drifted upward. Until finally, I was just beneath Cassandra.
When I paused again, I took a few deep breaths, steadying myself. Focused entirely on the beautiful woman above me, who was just as attentive to me. I nodded to her, signaling I was ready, prepared to follow her in whatever she had thought to do next.
At the precise moment when I had met her, she had already begun moving herself into a sailor pose above me, legs splitting, and much to my satisfaction, every single part of her in perfect position. All the small details I’d shown her the first lesson we’d had together were as pristine as when I’d helped her myself.
I would have taken more time to truly enjoy how proud of her I felt if she hadn’t twisted downward, dropping her torso straight toward me in a graceful fall. Before she’d completed it, I knew what she’d done. A Rainbow Marchenko. A famous move of Jeanne’s for many years. But watching her as she settled into it, I would have thought it was hers alone.
Cassandra’s hands dropped, releasing the silks. Dangling inches away. The only thing holding her in the air was the precise folds of those green fabrics wrapped around her legs.
Looking into her eyes as she hung there, waiting for me to act, all I could do was smile. She’d been focused, lost in her own world, but she’d come back to me. We were together again in the very place I had wanted to be with her ever since I’d seen her flying through the silks at her audition. I had dreamt about it every time since, every lesson we had, every time I’d watched her from the shadows of the theater while she practiced.
I had taken her to those fields in Melun with me, high in the trees. Trapped us both in those treasured memories, made all the better knowing she was there.
“I’ve got you, Cassandra,” I called out to her, gently. Steadying myself, my body locked in place. Breathing slow and rhythmic and calm. I watched her take the same breath as I had, waiting for the little drop in the lyrics before the next few lines began.
The moment their voices bellowed into the theater again, she let herself drop in a salto. In a gentle sweep of my body, I caught her gracefully into my arms. Twisted us together, letting the silks take hold of the two of us as we swung across the room, dozens of feet above the stage below us. Falling like two feathers locked together, dancing into the wind.
When the fabrics released us, I swung us outward. Our bodies drifted apart again as she spun around me, both of us still descending toward the floor. As beautiful as she looked, circling outward away from me, the moment she had, I wanted her back. I used my legs to give myself enough momentum to swing forward, latching on again once she’d appeared.
Cassandra had been so close I’d felt her breath against my face while we dangled above the stage. I got lost in the way it felt to be tangled up with her, a mess of bodies and fabric. Consumed by it. Convinced I might never let go of her again.
As we’d traversed the rest of the way back to the stage, I didn’t. The two of us descended together as a singular unit, just her and I and the fabrics. Improvising the graceful fall we were doing, finding little tricks and motions to carry out, all the while never leaving her side.
We’d both reached the floor, perfectly in sync with one another. I heard a gentle thump as we landed. Followed by the sound of both of our light, audible breaths. Steadying ourselves back on the ground.
Even having left the air, the silks still wrapped around us. Neither of us had freed ourselves. Cassandra was still in my arms, something I realized, when I hadn’t been so caught up in what we were doing all those feet above us, was happening for the very first time.
The sweet smell of oranges overwhelmed me. Her beautiful hazel eyes, those captivating flecks of grays and greens and browns, drowned out the world around us. I watched her breathing softly, holding her to me and those silks holding me to her.
And in those next few moments, every single solitary thing keeping me from her since the day we had met no longer existed in the little reality we were trapped in. Every fear I had, every reservation, disappeared. I tightened her to me, my hands capturing the sides of her face in a gentle sweep, as elegant as every other thing we’d done those last few minutes.
Our mouths fell together, and I lost myself in her. Trapped in those profound and so unbelievably relieving seconds in which the things that had stood in our way no longer mattered.
I hadn’t thought anything could have surpassed the experience the two of us just shared.
Undeniably, it had been the best minutes I had ever spent in those silks in my entire career. As simple as it had been. And we had barely started. This was only the beginning.
But this moment now was just as wonderful. As perfect as I could have hoped.
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Monday, April 24, 2023
Caring for Your Monster Venus Flytraps with Loretta Kendall #MonsterRomance #RomCom
Excerpt 2: Sweet Scene
“...It’s not good for people to have to dwell on death.”
Dropping her head to fiddle with her garage jumper’s zipper, she let out a breath.
“I worry about that. Some girls get deactivated when they remember their past. Frank-n-people can go mad when they remember how they died. They become obsessed with who they were before.”
Taking his eyes off the road for a moment, Fox wasn’t about to hear that. “Hell, no. I won’t let them de-animate you. They’ll have to kill me before I let that happen.”
In a fit of sudden anger at the thought, Fox pulled to the side of the road with tires screeching. The old truck's body shook violently as it came to a stop and dust from the roadside swirled around them.
The dirt that wafted in through the air vents made her choke as she looked at Fox like he’d lost his ever loven’ mind.
“Are you nuts? What is wrong with you?”
“I won’t let them do that to you. You’re not undead, Gigi. I’ve seen others like you. Those other creations are just basically walking, talking drones. You are nothing like them. You have a soul with real-life emotions and a beating heart.”
“That’s not true, Fox. I was made for Frank. He only wanted sex and a maid, so that was my design. It may not have been exactly what he ordered, but it’s how it is. Girls like me are made to serve. That’s it.”
“Really? Then why is it you have free will? Why are you not still bowing down to his every whim? And why the hell was he the only Frank-n-man to have a mate made for him since the original Frankenstein monsters? I’ve seen enough of those sex dolls to know they do whatever their masters say. You don’t call him master, nor do you ever refer to him as anything other than an abusive asshole. That, and whatever other choice word you can think of. If you were made for him, you wouldn’t hate him so much.”
“So, I’m just… stronger than the others. Maybe I’m a defective model.”
Fox nodded in agreement to that because she was right. “Yeah, you are. And for whatever reason, your creator let you be an individual, and that defect is absolute perfection. Maybe he didn’t want to see you as Frank’s slave. For whatever reason, he made you unique. Dare I say… human.”
Gigi didn’t know what to say. He was right, but no one had ever spoken to her like that. Even her friends never brought up her creator in such a way, except for Bear. She had wondered why she was different and why didn’t Victor keep to his sex doll plans.
“You’re special, stitches. And I for one, am thankful for it. You’re a kindhearted soul, and whatever you’re afraid of with Frank, I’ll fight to the death to protect you. I know Bear would too because that guy sees you like his little sister. He’s a good guy—you both are.”
“You barely know me,” she pouted.
“Yeah, but maybe I’m a man who sees you as more than just some sex toy to get off on. Others might see you that way, but I don’t. If I ever had the pleasure of making love to a woman as wonderful as you, it wouldn’t be about sex.”
“Oh yeah? Then what would it be?” she asked with a snarky tone, but still wanting to know.
Leaning in, Fox traced his finger down her lightning bolt scar, making her eyes slam shut expecting pain to come next. But it didn’t, making her curious as to why. His fingers traced her scar like it was a precious beauty mark and a soft breath escaped her lips when realizing he had no intention of hurting her.
When his lips grazed her earlobe, he answered, “It would be pure ecstasy. I’d make you feel things no man ever could. I’d show you what your heart wants, but you're too afraid to see.”
Top 10 Ways to Find Love in a (Magical) Hopeless Place with Terry Bartley #Fantasy #ShortStories
Excerpt
“Nice moves,” Aunt Poppy said. Sweat was beginning to gather on her brow. Her sandy short-cropped hair glistened in the sunlight. “You must have been practicing while I was away.”
She raised her short sword to guard her face and torso and backed away from me. She certainly looked less intimidating in her formal pantsuit, but the shirt still strained from her hulking arm muscles.
“Something like that,” I replied. I didn’t exactly have fighting clothes, as my mother didn’t approve of this hobby. But my old, beat up riding clothes worked well enough. “Or you’re just getting old.”
I took a deep breath and flung my head to toss my dark black ponytail around to my back. I rushed towards her and she swiped her blade in my direction. At the last moment, I dropped into a crouch and swung my leg around to trip her. She jumped before I could make contact and flipped forward, over my head. She lowered the edge of her short sword to my throat as autumn leaves fell around us.
“Got me again,” I laughed as she pulled her sword away and offered me her hand. I happily took it and pulled myself up. The garden of the Autumn Maiden’s estate wasn’t meant for this sort of training, but it was always my favorite use of the grounds.
“You truly are getting better,” she repeated.
I pushed some loose hairs behind my ear and smirked. “Still not good enough to beat you.”
“Please girl, I have been adventuring for over a century now. You are barely within your second decade,” Aunt Poppy reassured.
“I just really wanted to beat you before . . . . Well, you know,” I admitted.
“Asha,” she began sympathetically, “just because you’re getting married doesn’t mean you need to stop sparring with me.”
“The future Autumn Maiden doesn’t concern herself with the martial arts,” I said, pointing a crooked finger at her, mimicking my grandmother. I pushed my nose out and opened my eyes a bit wider.
Aunt Poppy laughed. “You better not let her catch you doing that. That woman never forgets. You can trust me on that.”
That made a chill run down my back, remembering all the times I’d been scolded by my grandmother. It’s not what she says so much as how she says it. That tone will stick with you.
“But it's more than that, Aunt Poppy. I don’t want sparring to just be a womanly dalliance for me. I want to be an adventurer. I want to be like you!” I exclaimed. I meant it. The princess life never seemed to fit for me.
“I know,” she said in a consolatory tone. “But sometimes we just don’t get to choose our path in life.”
I liked to believe she truly felt things could be different. Why else would she send me such detailed letters of her adventures all the time? I hoped she might know about a loophole to get me out of this.
“But you did!”
Aunt Poppy sighed. There were some things, it seemed, even great adventurers can’t do. “That’s the blessing of being the second born. I assure you, your father has made sacrifices because of his duty to the family. That is just something firstborns get saddled with.”
“It's not fair,” I whined. I sounded like a small child. I always made sure to take advantage of my time with my aunt to get in all my overly dramatic complaints that I couldn’t do in front of the rest of my family.
“That it is not, Asha. Life rarely is,” Poppy said solemnly, turning to look toward the Autumn Maiden’s expansive manor house.
“It's just,” I began, “The way you talk about the material realm makes it sound like there is so much more opportunity there.”
“It is that,” Aunt Poppy admitted, “but there are troubles there too. I’ll be heading back there after tonight’s dinner. Perhaps if you make a good impression your grandmother might let you tag along.”
I smiled at the thought, even though I knew it was a far-fetched fantasy.
“Asha! Sister! It is almost time!” My sister Tinsley called, running out of the large decorative glass double doors on the back of the manor house.
“Very well, Tinsley,” I relented and began following behind her.
“Eh, not so fast,” Aunt Poppy said.
I looked down and noticed the training sword still in my hand. I handed it over.
“I get it,” Aunt Poppy began, “I’ve had more than a few first dates I’d wished I’d brought a weapon along, but it may not offer a good first impression.”
“Probably not,” I laughed.
Character Confessions- Prophecy of a Vampire by Tania Gold #PNR
Amazon
BN
Dymocks AngusRobertson
Excerpt:
“Ivy, there is nothing you can do about it anymore. You might think that what you did was bad, but you protected yourself and it also happened to be in the natural way, for a vampire, that is. Which you are now, so you must learn to understand, and live with the knowledge that this will be a part of your future. You will get angry, you will get thirsty, and that thirst will be to kill whoever stands in your way. In this case, the mutts were advancing on you, and you did the natural thing and retaliated with fangs.”
I give her another light squeeze, which then turns into my thumb, rubbing circles on her shoulder, just as I have done in the past. I feel her loosen up a little and all the anxiety and distress fleeing her body.