xmlns:og='http://ogp.me/ns#' Kryssie Fortune: 2015

Saturday 26 December 2015

New Beginings

Beginnings are such fun. Everyone loves a chance to start over. Hell, sometimes we need to. No one knew this more than the ancient Romans. They even had a God of beginning and endings. Often they depicted him with two faces, one looking back, one looking forward.

Even today that god’s legacy lingers. The first month of the year is named after him. Yes, January is named after the Roman God, Janus.
Each year we mark the month with resolutions and good intentions. If they don’t last, then Janus is the God of endings too—along with doorways and entrances. Hinges have their own goddess, Cardea. I don’t like her much, but I’ll tell you more about that later.
Some doorways are fancy enough to deserve a god of their own.
Recently I photographed this one at Versailles. The Sun King, Louis the Fourteenth really liked his trimmings. In contrast, take a look at Britain’s oldest door – dating from 1050's. It lives in the Chapter House at Westminster Abbey.
So, why don’t I like Cardea? 
Well… Janus was a well respected God who did nothing but good. He palled up with Saturn and gave the Roman Empire money and agriculture. History records him as an all round good guy. Then Cardea accused him of raping her. Maybe, just maybe, she cried wolf.

That’s where I started when I wrote Giving It Up For the Gods.
What if Janus was innocent but no one believed him? What if the Gods cast him out of Olympus and he fell all the way to the underworld. Perhaps, after centuries of torment, he finally clawed his way out of the underground. Some friendships stand the test of time. Saturn, who now calls himself Saul, would be waiting. After centuries apart, the team's back together.

Of course, Janus has an abiding hatred of sirens—the species that had supported Cardea’s wild claims. So, naturally, my heroine—Lindy—is a siren but if she doesn’t get laid before the solstice, Neptune will take her by force. The only available lover is Janus, only now he wears leathers, roars around on a motor bike, and goes by the name of Jase. 
And, yes, he still hates sirens, so poor Lindy’s screwed in more ways than one.
Want to read their story?
Here’s where you can find my book.


Buy Links



         Loose ID

        Amazon.com

        Amazon AU

        All romance

       Even better, Giving It Up For The Gods, along with my other books are currently on offer on the Loose ID Website.

 HAPPY CHRISTMAS

        

Blurb

Not only angels fall.

Convicted of a crime he didn’t commit, the warrior god Janus plummeted from the heights of Olympus to the depths of the Underworld. After centuries of pain and torment, he finally clawed his way free. He'll never forgive the gods who condemned him, or the sirens for their part in his downfall.

Each summer, to celebrate the Feast of Neptunealia, Neptune demands a virgin sacrifice. And his sacrifice of choice is a siren.

Sirens are strong, sassy, and sexy.

Lindy’s siren heritage makes her fierce, lusty, and curious but she dreams of loving one man forever. She won’t give her heart—or her virginity—to a short lived mortal she might accidentally break in bed. When Neptune demands her as his sacrifice, she’s determined to give her virginity to anybody except him.

Janus, or Jase as he calls himself now, rescues Lindy from Neptune’s mermen. He’s the one man she’s eager to bed. The clock’s ticking. Lindy has forty-eight hours to seduce the siren-hating Jase and win his heart. That or Neptune will find her and take her against her will.

Thursday 24 December 2015

Five Facts Thursday - please welcome Joan Leotta

Five Fun Facts about Joan Leotta


1. I live in the town Jimmy Durante made famous—Good-night Mrs. Calabash, wherever you are!

2. My elementary school was an old Victorian-era mansion

3. One of my short stories won first place in a contest in Australia! It is the title tale for my eclectic story collection—Simply a Smile—many genres, each story inspired by an object

4. Spent a summer in Lesotho researching their political system

5. Love collecting seashells, (my only sport is beach walking), cooking and reading





Excerpt   from title story

Because his family raised horses, Hsiang Xirui quickly became a cavalry rider of distinction. In his first battle, he saved the life of one of his officers. Again and again he proved his bravery. Despite his low birth status, he was made an officer.The soft features of the strong, gentle, young man became the scarred, sharp outlines of a warrior. Yet, for all of his glory in the Emperor’s service, Hsiang Xirui’s heart remained that of the gentle farm boy who loved Li Hui Zhong. He thought constantly of how he might find and rescue her.

Excerpt from one of the mystery tales, An Ancient Recipe--

Leah took a deep breath. It was time to unroll the scroll a bit more. She smiled and delicately moved the paper using her gloved hands and a long tweezers. She caught her own reflection in the glass of her husband's photo on her desk. Leah appraised her reflection critically and said to herself, "Perhaps I should whiten my teeth before my appearance on the Today show. My hair could use a bit more body. Not a permanent, but maybe some curls or bangs to accentuate my green eyes."

Excerpt from a general fiction tale, Rings on Her Fingers 

The aide motioned to me. I got up and walked over to the side of the bed. Pat plopped the first ring into my palm. I closed my hand over the ring, a slim silver band with an engraved silver shield.





Thursday 17 December 2015

Five Facts Thursday - please welcome Kelly Heckart

Five facts about me

  1. I have an obsessive compulsive habit of straightening things and double checking door locks, both of which drive my husband crazy.
  2. All of my heroes have long hair. I adore long hair men, possibly because I grew up in the 1980s when men had beautiful manes.
  3. I attract wild animals. Recently, I had a baby lizard hitchhike on my head. Yep, I have no idea how it got there. I made sure he or she made it safely back outside.
  4. All of my heroines are strong-willed and independent. This is because I never wished for a prince to come and rescue me. I wanted to be strong enough to rescue myself.
  5. The one series I watch over and over again is Buffy the Vampire Slayer.



Blurb from The Bear Goddess:

Forbidden love… Broken vows… Betrayal…

Callisto has studied all her life to attain the high position of Bear Goddess among the nymphs of Artemis, taking a sacred vow of purity. But when she meets a mysterious man, her life changes forever.

Kasin is a prince among the fierce centaurs and one of few who can take human shape. He is torn between his duty to his people and his love for Callisto.

After the nymphs capture Kasin and their secret is exposed, they manage a daring escape, but danger and betrayal follow Kasin and Callisto. To survive, they must evade a god obsessed with having Callisto for himself as well as others who also want to keep them apart. Their love will either be their undoing or their salvation.

Short excerpt from The Bear Goddess:

Everything had happened so fast—being caught with Kasin, being bound with silver, Kasin changing into a centaur—Callisto hadn’t had time to absorb the shock of discovering the man she loved was a centaur. Weakened by the silver chain still binding her hands, she couldn’t escape. All she could do was lay helpless in his arms while he galloped with her off into the night.
He came to an abrupt halt at the edge of a steep plateau, searching the darkened forest lit by faint beams of moonlight. The fierce set of his handsome face made her breath catch in her throat. His arms held her in a confident, strong grip. With some hesitancy, she admitted to herself that she found him exciting. He was a centaur, her enemy who she was supposed to hate, but he had never mistreated her and he saved her life once again. She could only stare at him, stunned.

Website: http://www.kelleyheckart.com

Buy links:
Trade Paperback: http://amzn.to/1OPlcT0

Thursday 10 December 2015

Five Facts Thursday - please welcome Stacy Juba

Five Random Facts To Ponder 

1. The term theme park originated with Disneyland, which opened in Anaheim, California, in 1955.

2. According to the Coaster Grotto website, Formula Rossa at Ferrari World Abu Dhabi is the fastest steel roller coaster in the world with a maximum speed of 149 mph



3. The Magic Kingdom is the most visited theme park in the world.

4. The first written European version of Cinderella was published in Napoli (Naples) by Giambattista Basile, in his Pentamerone (1634).

5. The glass slipper is unique to Charles Perrault's version of Cinderella and its derivatives; in other versions of the tale it may be made of other materials, such as gold; and in still other tellings, it is not a slipper but an anklet, a ring, or a bracelet. 





Book blurb.

What happens when the glass slippers pinch Cinderella's toes? When Jaine Andersen proposes a new marketing role to the local amusement park, general manager Dylan Callahan charms her into filling Cinderella’s glass slippers for the summer. Her reign transforms Jaine’s ordinary life into chaos that would bewilder a fairy godmother. Secretly dating her bad boy boss, running wedding errands for her ungrateful sisters, and defending herself from the park’s resident villain means Jaine needs lots more than a comfy pair of shoes to restore order in her kingdom. First in the Storybook Valley series, a blend of sweet romance, chick lit, and fairy tale fun. 

 Excerpt.


Jaine Andersen couldn’t stop staring at the framed poster of Cinderella outside the castle. Cylindrical towers and turrets ascended into the sapphire sky, lofty mountains rising in the background. Her hand poised in an elegant wave, Cinderella beamed toward the camera. Ornate script flowed across the right side of the glossy photograph.

“Follow your heart, dream big, and you will find the magic.”
“Okay, Jaine, time to find the magic,” she mumbled, shifting in her seat.
“Interesting. What magic are you hoping to find?” a masculine voice asked behind her.
The kind that erases someone’s memory and lets you start over? Nice going, Jaine.


Squirming, Jaine clutched the black leather portfolio case in her lap as Dylan Callahan closed his office door. He sat down at a battered desk strewn with papers, her eyes tracking his every movement. Forget Cinderella’s stirring quote. Now Jaine couldn’t tear her gaze off the hot guy conducting her interview. The blond hair ruffled across his forehead made him resemble a Venice Beach surfer, not the general manager of a family theme park.

Winter sports seemed his thing though, considering the posters flanking Cinderella. In one, a skier whipped down a powdery slope while the other showed a snowboarder in mid-air. Inspirational words stretched across the bottom of each print: Goal-Setting for the skier and Persistence for the snowboarder.

To nail this interview, Jaine needed to demonstrate her prowess in both areas. And show that she wasn’t some weirdo who talked to herself.


She recovered her voice. “Actually, I’m hoping to help your company find some marketing magic. Uh, thank you for inviting me in.” Jaine toed her navy blue dress shoes into the industrial carpet, hoping he didn’t notice her fidgeting. When the receptionist had escorted her into the office to wait, she hadn’t expected such a good-looking man to join her.

Focus, Jaine. Focus.

Buy Links.






Sunday 6 December 2015

Two Feasts, Three Gods, and One Nymph.

Some friendships stand the test of time. Saturn had a friend like that. When his own son overthrew him and exiled him from Greece, Janus invited him to Rome. He took agriculture and civilization with him. His gifts were so prized he became a joint ruler.
Image result for janus and saturn - gods

How hard would a parent fight against a much-loved son? Like most parents, I’d run before I hurt mine. I’m betting Saturn felt the same. Secondly, Janus must have been one hell of god to share his kingdom. I’m guessing Saturn was one of the world’s good guys. Shame about his son. Janus is an enigma though. He was a popular god who cared for his subjects but a nymph named Cardea accused him of raping her. No wonder he's usually shown having two faces. 
Image result for janus and cardea

One of the things Saturn gave Rome was the feasts of Saturnalia. It marked the winter solstice, when the days were short and long. Life could look hopeless with no crops and a limited food supply. Every culture marks the solstice with a festival of light and giving. In Rome, they celebrated with  unbridled drinking, feasting, and orgies. Candles burned brightly, people exchanged gifts, and everyone shed their inhibitions. A good time was had by all.
Image result for saturnalia


We name one of our days after, Saturday, after Saturn, but few of us worship the ancient gods now. The nearest we come is when visitors marvel over the remains of Saturn’s temple in Rome’s forum.
Temple of Saturn, Rome.jpg
Saturn’s brother, Neptune has a festival too. Ever heard of Neptunalia?
Thought not.
 I hadn’t either. 

To quote Wikipedia, The Neptunalia was an obscure archaic two-day festival in honor of Neptune as god of waters, celebrated at Rome in the heat and drought of summer, probably July 23.

Wells were dressed to keep them shady and streams were covered to keep them running. Again there was feasting.
Imagination running wild yet?
Mine was when I researched this. 
It took a while but I started to wonder what if? What if gods still walked among us? What if Neptune corrupted his feast into something dark and disgusting? 
What if Cardea wasn’t raped at all?
That’s how my book, Giving it up for the Gods was born.


Blurb

Not only angels fall.

Convicted of a crime he didn’t commit, the warrior god Janus plummeted from the heights of Olympus to the depths of the Underworld. After centuries of pain and torment, he finally clawed his way free. He'll never forgive the gods who condemned him, or the sirens for their part in his downfall.

Each summer, to celebrate the Feast of Neptunalia, Neptune demands a virgin sacrifice. And his sacrifice of choice is a siren.

Sirens are strong, sassy, and sexy.

Lindy’s siren heritage makes her fierce, lusty, and curious but she dreams of loving one man forever. She won’t give her heart—or her virginity—to a short lived mortal she might accidentally break in bed. When Neptune demands her as his sacrifice, she’s determined to give her virginity to anybody except him.

Janus, or Jase as he calls himself now, rescues Lindy from Neptune’s mermen. He’s the one man she’s eager to bed. The clock’s ticking. Lindy has forty-eight hours to seduce the siren-hating Jase and win his heart. That or Neptune will find her and take her against her will.

Buy Links






Excerpt


Lindy was a Siren, damn it. That made her a Grade A survivor, and she wasn’t going down without a fight. Lack of oxygen made her weak. Determined to get out from under the people pile, she groped one-handed behind her. A drunk threw a bar stool. It shattered beside her and sent splinters flying everywhere. She ignored the one in her arm and concentrated on staying alert. 

Vision fading, lungs screaming, she grabbed a broken stool leg and flailed at the bodies grinding her face-first into the floor. A masculine bellow told her she’d hit something. Good. A wake-up call might make them stop using her as their personal mattress. These people had rushed in to rescue her, and now she hurt them to survive. She hated herself for it, but her life was on the line here. Finally she clawed herself free, dragged Bill under the table, and glanced across at the fire exit. 

Just ten yards. Just like making a first down. An easy run for a super-fit Siren like me. Just as she reached the bar, one of the bouncers backed into her. This time as she fell, her wrist bent back almost 180 degrees. Damn it, I just heard the bones snap. An inferno blazed through her nerve endings, and she prayed she didn’t throw up. She wasn’t crying...really.Who am I kidding? Pain made her eyes water. Hello. Siren. Tears. Not a good mix. Time to toughen up and get out of here. 

She heaved herself up and leaned against the bar, panting heavily. Her broken ribs ached right along with her shattered wrist, and her head throbbed. Lethargy spread through her like a warm, comforting hug. Unconsciousness beckoned, but to come out of this unscathed, she had to stay sharp and run. 

If she passed out, someone would ship her off to the nearest hospital. Joe, probably. Only, if they discovered she wasn’t human, she’d end up in some government facility. Maybe the British equivalent of Area 51, if there was such a thing. If that happened, she might never see daylight again. 

She called on her Siren training to help ignore the pain. So not working. Maybe I should have paid more attention in school. She felt as though lightning speared her wrist. Just a few more yards, and she’d be home free. She just needed to rest a moment first. She slid back to the floor, her back against the bar. When she gulped in a lungful of air, the pain from her ribs made her gasp. Dizzy and nauseated, she slowly lifted her head. 

Two biker boots--solid, black leather with thick soles and long laces--filled her gaze. She followed them upward, licking her lips as she stared at her rescuer’s muscular thighs. Injured arm cradled against her chest, she threw back her head to clear the hair from her face. She’d almost suffocated. Relief made her shaky, and it didn’t help that Tall, Dark, and Handsome towered over her, his expression half sympathetic, half fierce. 

Breathtaking male. Damn, but he’s even more stunning close up. 

Then the unfeeling jerk dragged her upright and dumped her behind the bar. “Stay there and be quiet.” 

Neptune’s balls, it hurt when he pulled her about like that, especially when that people pile had cracked her ribs and shattered her wrist. And who did he think he was, giving her orders? Sirens weren’t the shut-up-and-do-as-I-say type. Once she caught her breath, she’d hit that shrill note that would shatter the mermen’s eardrums; then she’d leave. 

Lindy’s rescuer dived back into the fight, clearly intending to keep the merwarriors at bay. Apparently deciding to deal with him first, a huddle of mermen swamped him like American footballers falling on a ball at the end of a play. 

A Siren’s lullaby rose up in Lindy’s throat, but she’d never be able to hold the long, low notes, not with broken ribs. Tall, Dark, and Domineering had saved her, and she owed him. Sirens weren’t known for their common sense, and broken bones notwithstanding, her personal code demanded she help him. 

Before she moved, Tall, Dark, and Deliciously Sexy threw off the mermen as though they weighed nothing. He hauled his surfer friend from the battle and towed him toward the bar. His intense gaze fastened on Lindy. 

Almost as threatened by him as she was by Neptune’s minions, she felt her heart hammer and pound. And where was Joe? Then she spotted him through the open door that led to the back room. He was talking on his cell phone. Probably ringing the police. Except for her driving license, she lacked the layers of ID that human society demanded. So that was her cue to leave. 

She edged away from the battle, but Tall, Dark, and Do-As-I-Say shot Lindy a furious look. “I said stay there.” 

Her glare would curdle milk. Sirens are fierce predators. He should back down and apologize, not ignore me and concentrate on his friend. 

He shook his buddy and yelled, “Feel better now, Saul? Or do you want to beat on a few more mermen? We’ve got the girl, so let’s leave.” 

“Fire exit,” Lindy panted and pointed over her shoulder. 

As the hotties flanked Lindy and scanned the room, the smell of rotting fish alerted Lindy to the merman creeping up on her from behind the bar. She tried to poke her fingers in his eyes, but it was too much of a stretch for a pocket-size Siren like her. 

“Accept your fate, and come with me,” he hissed. 

Lindy grimaced. “You’d think mermen would bathe occasionally. Has anyone ever told you that you stink? And do you think up cheesy lines when you’ve nothing better to do than hurt women? Or is that what counts as an original thought for you? Get lost, mermaid.” 

He raised his fist. “Merman. I’m a freaking merman.” 

She kicked him in the balls; then Tall, Dark, and Bad-Tempered vaulted the bar and shoved her aside. His fist pulped the merman’s face. “Funny. You scream like a girl.” 

The blond one, Saul, slid over the bar, smiled at Lindy, and smirked at his friend. “Seems you’ve caught a feisty one there, Jase.” 

Her rescuer rolled his eyes. “Trust a Siren to start a fight. Okay, where’s the back door again?” 

Jase? What sort of name was Jase? And why was he angry with her? She hadn’t started this fight, and she definitely hadn’t meant for anyone to get hurt because of her. And thanks to her broken ribs, every breath she took was torture. The last thing she wanted was to advertise her imminent departure to Neptune’s fail-at-the-first-hurdle posse. 

Jase snarled again. “You’re a sodding Siren. They usually never shut up. Where’s the bloody back door?” 

No one spoke to her like that. Ever. She might look like the weakest female in the room, but Sirens were as tough as they were beautiful. Right now she didn’t feel either. Her red-brown hair had escaped its usual ponytail, and it fell in lank hunks around her shoulders. Fringing hung off her denim blouse like miniature lassos. Her suede skirt was trampled and ripped. The heel of one boot was broken, and she could feel her mascara running down her cheeks. Even so, she’d done nothing to deserve his scorn. And, oh great, some idiot’s poured a pint of beer on my clothes. I stink like last night’s party leftovers. 

No way would Jase want to fuck her. Not that she’d let him unless he apologized first. Her ribs were already healing, but the compound fracture of her wrist would take a little longer. She tossed her usually perfect locks, but they were a tangled mess. She’d have stalked ahead, but the broken heel on her boot made walking difficult. She stopped to kick them off, but her bad-tempered rescuer snapped, “No time for that.” 

At least he hadn’t sworn at her again. If she didn’t owe him, she’d pour out a scale of sharp notes to set his teeth on edge. She held up her foot to show him the broken heel, but he scooped her up and hung her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. She gasped as a spasm of pain hit her ribs and thumped hard but one-handed at his back. He didn’t even seem to feel it. How useless can one Siren be? I feel like a fly attacking the swatter. 

He smelled of oranges, pine needles, and freshly baked bread. If she was hungry, he’d make a damn good meal. Even upside down, she appreciated his muscular butt. Jase was as objectionable as he was sexy, but she’d definitely give up her virginity for all that male gorgeousness. 

When he opened the back door, she couldn’t resist taunting, “See? That wasn’t so hard. Oh, maybe the neon sign over the exit gave you a clue. And guess what, you just have to push it, and it opens. Joe’s phoned the police, so a bit of urgency wouldn’t go amiss.” 

His quick jog down the stairs did nothing to help her broken ribs. Every step knocked air back out of her lungs, but at least she was finally getting the hell out of Dodge. When they reached the car park, surfer guy jumped on a lean, mean, chrome-plated motorbike while her rescuer set her down next to a 1950s classic bike. 

“Get on,” he snapped. 

“Get stuffed.” She kicked off her boots and tossed them at his head. He ducked. 

Then the door swung back open again. Neptune’s posse poured out. Lindy smirked and leaped astride the surfer guy’s chrome-plated beauty. Jase ignored her and roared off down the street. 

Surfer guy, Saul, revved the engine and followed. She yelled her address in his ear, but either he ignored her or he didn’t hear. She hit his shoulder to get his attention, but he opened the throttle and threw out a wheelie. With a furious squeal, she ignored the pain in her wrist and clung on like iron filings kissing a magnet. 

These jokers had saved her from Neptune’s goons, but they as good as kidnapped her themselves. Dumping them would be easy if they were humans, not that she’d anywhere special to go. If those fish heads knew where she worked, they sure as hell knew where she lived. Besides, she’d seen this pair in action. No human moved with their speed, precision, or strength. Her rescuers were nothing like any preternatural species she’d rubbed up against before, so what the hell were they? 

Once they’d left the streetlights and houses behind, Saul pulled up and practically shoved her off his shiny chrome bike. “Here, Jase, you take her.” 

Lindy felt rooted to the spot, but the drop-dead sexy one, Jase, lifted her bodily and dumped her on his pillion. “Saul, you asshole. She’s frozen. Couldn’t you spare the power to warm her?” 

He stripped off his leather jacket and draped it around her shoulders. She ignored the stabbing pain in her ribs, but her injuries were already healing. The wrist would take longer, a day and a half maybe, since it wasn’t a clean break. Careful not to bump her broken bones, she shrugged the jacket on carefully. His body heat lingered in the lining along with his lemon-and-fresh-pine essence. 

Saul just stared at her, shrugged, and said, “She’s not mine.” 

“She’s sure as hell not mine,” Jase snapped back. “A bloody Siren? Really? Come on, Saul, anything but that.” 

Lindy fumed in Jase’s arms. And what sort of name was Jase? Short for Jason, perhaps. Whatever he called himself, he didn’t care overly much for her. Not that she should worry about that. Mostly she liked herself, and that was all that mattered. As singers went, she’d never make the Siren’s top ten. That still made her a million times better than any human. Tougher too, unless bodies piled on top of her like an American football at the end of a play. Once she’d gotten back to her feet, those mermaid guys would have been toast...probably. 

Jase kept looking back over his shoulder, so he saw them first. A hand gesture, and Saul glanced behind. Neptune’s goons had bikes too. The race was on. 

Lindy’s wrist throbbed. Her vision blurred. She struggled to stay alert. Bile rose in her throat, but this bad-tempered biker might bar her from his bed if she threw up on his back. You think? Okay, time I did some deep-breathing exercises. She inhaled as deeply as her cracked ribs allowed and clung harder. His back was broad and warm, so she rested her face and her breasts against it. 

Her world lost focus. All she saw were dark shapes--probably trees and hedges--and endless road. She glanced back, and just when she felt certain those merfolk would catch them, her rescuers turned into a forest. Every bounce of the bike over the rutted tracks was agony for her. The trees came at them thick and fast, but Jase never took his hand off the throttle. Wind rustled the leaves. Ahead, a river splashed against rocks. Then they came to the ancient packhorse bridge.

Just as Jase pulled onto it, she recognized her surroundings. Last summer, she’d picnicked near here with Joe and his lover. Even on a summer’s day, the packhorse bridge had terrified her. 

“I’ll take the long detour down the valley and wade across the river!” she yelled as he pulled onto the bridge. Not that he took any notice. 

A slender pathway of stone stretched out into the night. Narrow, without parapets, it was barely wide enough to take a laden pony or motorbike. Surely he isn’t going to... Oh hell, he is. Lindy’s heart raced as Jase revved his engine, raced up the low slope, and started across it. Sirens feared nothing, except darkness and heights. As an added bonus, this bridge stretched high above a dark valley. 

“No!” she yelled. 

The roar of the engine drowned out her voice. Terrified, she squeezed her eyes shut. Not that it helped. When she sneaked a look, the ground had dropped away on either side. Almost, this felt like flying. Don’t faint. Don’t panic. Just pray. One move, one shuffle that put them off-balance, and they’d tumble to the rocks below. They’d crash and burn just like the night the Sirens fell from the heavens. 

Don’t think about that. Don’t look. Don’t move. Don’t scream. Don’t disturb his concentration. She pretended she was back in the club, curled up with a white wine spritzer after her first performance. A blip of the throttle. A tiny wobble of the back wheel, and she wanted to throw up. Only, terrified as she was, every vibration of the engine sent tiny hits of pleasure through her cunt. 

Copyright © Kryssie Fortune