Thursday, May 24, 2012

Author Spotlight - Adonis Devereux

Happy Thursday everyone! Today, on the Vampire Scribe, I welcome fellow Evernight writing team, Adonis Devereux. This dynamic duo (the female half just happens to be my editor to boot) has a new naughty fairy tale to share with us today.

Thank you so much, Annalynne, for hosting us today! Hi, everyone! We are Adonis Devereux, a husband-wife writing team. We live in Japan and have six daughters, so our days are busy, to say the least! But that never stops us from writing a story that grabs us. And our new newest release, The Twelve Naughty Princesses, is just the type of story to have drawn us in, even to the point of taking us out of our normal writing routine. We made sure we set aside two days to whip this lovely piece out, taking time out  from writing our Gilalion series of novels, scorching romances that take place in our home-brew fantasy world. We are glad to have been able to take a fairy tale and re-tell it to maximum erotic effect. The Twelve Naughty Princesses has everything. Spanking, public exhibition, voyeurism, multiple partners, bondage – add in some delicious faerie men, some spunky, sexy princesses, and one lonely soldier, and the heat is on!

Blurb from The Twelve Naughty Princesses:

Max is a soldier down on his luck, and when the king sends out a call for volunteers to solve the mystery of the twelve dancing princesses, Max figures he has nothing to lose, nothing, of course, except his head if he should fail. Max has faced death before and doesn't fear it, but when he meets the princesses, all lovely, light-hearted, and battling constant exhaustion due to their mysterious nightly escapades, he realizes he could lose his heart as well. To win his princess, Max must break the spell. But he must face the truth that the twelve princesses are terribly naughty and do much more than just dance, and he will have to join in the amorous festivities himself to get them out.

Excerpt from The Twelve Naughty Princesses:

        Each princess chose two dancing partners, and an invisible orchestra struck up a waltz. The music fell like dew drops and moonlight over the room, coating everyone and everything in its beauty, doubling in Max his longing for Alaren. She fell into the arms of one of her partners, leaning back into his chest. He cradled her in his powerful arms, and they swayed together. The other man joined them, and Alaren was pressed between their flesh. They moved with the waltz, their feet unerringly skipping across the ballroom floor while their bodies undulated against one another. They moved like waves in the sea. Each thrust evoked a pull. When one exhaled, the other inhaled. Grab and swirl, push and grind, the dancers performed their sex-waltz. Max brought himself almost to climax before he stopped suddenly, letting his cock go as it twitched in anticipation of orgasm. He knew how to build up his cum for a final, explosive release. He grabbed his cock again and resumed stroking.            

Perdita, the mistress of the ball, walked around to different trios of dancers and administered light spankings where she thought appropriate. Some of the twins she upbraided for not giving themselves to the night, for not dancing with all the passion they could muster. The princesses giggled and moaned, enjoying every moment of their punishment. Max wondered if some of them did not dance badly on purpose just so they could get spanked. After being disciplined, the twins danced with greater heat as they wiggled their buttocks on their partners' growing cocks. Perdita walked on, and the expression on her face reminded Max of a matron of a particular cat-house he used to visit regularly. Everyone had assumed that due to her severity, she hated men and wanted nothing to do with them. But Max had known better. Over her own protestations, he gave her a good fucking one night, taking her instead of one of her girls. That was just what she had needed, and he had known that. Whenever he went back there, he always fucked her. Perdita was much the same way. She looked stern and intimidating, but Max knew all she needed – all she wanted – was a forceful cock inside her that would not spurt within the first minute of intercourse. Strong women had that effect on men. They needed even stronger men with even greater stamina to topple them and give them the orgasms they craved.            

Max returned his attention to Alaren, and his cock regained its vigor. Alaren was the woman for him; there was no doubt about it. She was what he needed. Max lost track of time. He did not know how long he stood there jacking off, but the music finally ended. The princesses’ slippers were worn through. They must have danced for hours, but how time flowed in the faery realm Max did not know. He was still as horny as ever. The princesses were all covered in sweat, their hair drenched and clinging to her skin, their corsets moving up and down with their labored breathing.

Here are the author links for Adonis Devereux:

Blog –   

Monday, May 21, 2012

Keyboards and Kink Anthology

         A night at home on the computer doesn’t have to be boring…

         Feel like chatting? Or maybe doing something more daring?The stranger reaching out across cyberspace could be a creepy pervert, but what ifhe wasn’t? What if he’s a vampire, the sexy boy next door, or even yourgorgeous boss? Thirteen tales explore all the delicious possibilities whenonline relationships lead to sexy encounters away from the keyboard.

         Check out an excerpt from my short story, The Queen of Happy Endings, part of Evernight Publishing's Keyboards and Kink anthology due out on June 8th.

         Calliope didn’t have much time to flesh out the evil plot against her best friend. Before long, seven o’clock rolled around and she heard the doorbell ring. The familiar flutter of butterflies swirled around in her stomach. Her palms began to sweat as nerves got the better of her, overstimulated by fantasies of what was to come. She sat in the chair by the massage table, listening as Beau and Dominic exchanged pleasantries. As soon as she heard his voice, her womb clenched as it readied itself for his sensual assault.
            Dominic entered the room and right away started to undress. His gaze locked on Calliope. She stared back. Her lover’s eyes danced from left to right, mimicking the shape of her voluptuous curves in a standoff of unbridled sexual intent. Calliope’s mouth went dry and she licked her parched lips, letting him know that she was starved. Desperate for his touch.
            Dominic let out a feral growl, then reached for Calliope, yanking her to his side. It seemed that a massage was the last thing on his mind. Without preamble, his mouth descended on hers, their tongues dueling in a fierce, hedonistic battle of wits. Dominic jerked the robe off her shoulders and released the clasp of her bra, then shoved her back against the massage table.
Calliope watched his brown orbs shift, changing colors before her eyes. While his mouth continued its invasion, she felt his incisors protract. Inadvertently, they grazed the ridge of her lower lip. She tasted blood and felt Dominic’s claws dig into the flesh of her shoulder. He ripped off her panties with his free hand and tossed them to the ground. Then he grabbed his cock by its base, rubbing the head up and down Calliope’s slick entrance.
“Dom, please. Fuck me!” Her hoarse voice whispered into his chest.
His movements ceased. His shaft remained pressed firm against her throbbing clitoris as if contemplating her request. “No need to rush, baby. We can take it slow. I’ve got all night.”
“No,” Calliope protested, pushing against his cock until her folds parted like a flower in bloom. “I can’t wait. I need to feel you inside me. Now!”
Dominic didn’t seem to need any further incentive. He thrust inside her, his shaft buried to the hilt. His balls slapped against her plump ass over and over, the sound ringing in her ears. At the same time, he raised his head and sucked her ripe areola into the recesses of his hot, wet mouth. Then his fangs sank into the flesh on the underside of her bosom and he drank his fill.
Calliope screamed as the suction from his lips made her pussy convulse, releasing a torrent of spasms that set fire to her libido. Her entire body shook as the raging inferno inside burned out of control. After several minutes the effects began to subside. She closed her eyes and rested her head on the table, completely drained of energy.


            From the slight crack in the doorway, Beau had seen everything. He heard his best friend’s cries of pleasure and watched Dom pummel her with his cock. With one hand, Beau made a fist, shoving his hand in his mouth in order to keep from moaning out loud. The other hand was busy stroking his rock-hard erection. His eyes were glued to the two lovers, unable to look away. Although when he saw Calliope’s body quiver under Dom’s masterful touch, he couldn’t help but join in on the festivities.
              Beau pushed the door open wider and passed the threshold,

careful to walk on the balls of his feet so that he wouldn't startle them.

Calliope's back was against the massage table, her eyes shut tight.

Dominic spied him first from the corner of his eye, but continued to

work his member at a quick, even tempo inside her pussy. As he

approached the table, Beau put his finger to his lips, urging the vampire

to remain silent.

Tuesday, May 15, 2012

Author Spotlight - Danica Avet

This week on The Vampire Scribe, I'm happy to host a brand-new author from the Evernight Publishing family. Danica Avet has a sizzling release out entitled, Immortal Love. If you have the hots for sexy, half-mortal heroes, you'll love Danica's latest tale.

Book Blurb:

      Enforcer Roxana Love works for Olympus, Inc., the corporate face of the Greek pantheon, and knows better than to trust anyone in administration. Assigned to find and protect the newest member of Olympus, Inc., she figures it’ll be a grab and go job, until she discovers her assignment is the same man she slept with the night before. Keeping things professional will be near impossible when she can’t decide if she wants to kill or kiss him.

     One night with Roxana isn’t enough for Mason Landry, despite how crazy she seems. However, he isn’t given much choice when he’s thrown through his window, attacked by mythical beings, and told he’s part-immortal. Roxana’s explanation is too fantastical to believe, but if it keeps him by her side, he’ll go along for the ride. Meeting gods and dodging monsters from lore is nothing compared to the fight he’ll have winning Roxana’s heart.


       She woke up in a puddle of drool. Roxana made a face. Her mouth tasted like a cat had taken a shit in it in the middle of the night. Ugh. Morning breath. She needed a toothbrush and a gallon of mouthwash. Now.

      She rolled away from her drool, throwing her arm out. It landed on something solid and warm. She froze. What. The. Hell. She tried to remember what happened the night before. Yeah, it didn’t take long for the memories to come roaring back. Sex. Lots of sex. With a human! A human who had managed to keep up with her, twist her inside out, and made her come so many times, she felt like they set a world record.

      A groan hovered. No, no regrets. She’d needed last night to work her frustrations at Zeus out of her system. And it had so worked. She felt more relaxed than she had in years.

      She cracked open one eye and peered around the room. She was in his apartment. Thank gods it wasn’t hers. He was simply too good at making her come to injure by kicking him out of her bed.

      Dried spit on the side of her face reminded her she’d been drooling. Drooling! Ugh. She pushed herself up and looked over at Mason. He was flat on his stomach, half of his body hanging off the bed. She looked at herself. She was a total bed hog, and she knew it. She’d probably pushed him that way at some point in the night because she was in the center of the bed with plenty of room. She smirked.

      Served him right after that last round of mind-blowing sex.

      Early morning light slanted over the bed, caressing his skin like a lover. She could stare at his body forever, but that would not work. She had a job to do. Heaving a mental sigh, she eased out of the bed. He’d been a good lay for the night, good enough to leave her a little wobbly when she tried to stand.

      Okay. That never happened to her. She could usually go several rounds and still have enough energy and strength to kick ass afterwards. Mason had definitely been worth the time she lost the night before. Her thighs were stained with her juices and his cum. She sighed. Glad she’d conjured a pack of towelettes when she left the bar last night, she grabbed a few to clean herself. With the way they’d gone at it, it was a damn good thing she couldn’t get pregnant from a mortal. Her body needed immortal seed to conceive. She shook her head with a soft laugh.

      She found her four thousand dollar dress crumpled on the floor. Eh, looked like she had another dress to donate to the cleaning service. She waved her hand towards the dress, sending it to her apartment on Mount Olympus. She conjured a pair of distressed Hudson jeans and an Aiko tunic because she’d be combing the streets for Zeus’s friggin’ grandson. She’d leave the panties for Mason. They were her favorite, yeah, but were so torn up she couldn’t wear them again.

      Roxana smiled and dressed as quickly as she could. No use hanging around for Mason to get all weepy when he saw the best piece of ass he’d ever had walking out the door. She wasn’t cocky. She’d seen the enthralled look on his face. She stopped to buff her nails. Yeah, she was good. And in a damn good mood after yesterday’s self-pity party.

      It took a little longer to find her shoes. She leaned on the bed to put them on, her gaze eating up the sight of a naked, exhausted Mason sprawled on the bed. He was so sexy. She sighed. His skin was so gorgeous, like dark satin poured over steely muscles. Yeah, she could get used to that sight. The scars littering his skin only made him much more attractive to her. She so loved a male who—

      She blinked. Shook her head. A little laugh escaped her. She was imagining things, of course. Roxana stood up straight and swung her purse over her shoulder. She headed to the door, pausing in the doorway.

      And looked back at the big man on the bed. His head was turned towards her, his face relaxed in sleep. She tilted her head to the left, then to the right. Her heartbeat spiked. No. No, no, no!

      Her purse fell to the floor with a thud, but she ignored it as she stalked back to the bed. Upon closer inspection, the scars looked familiar. Too familiar for her peace of mind. The scar tissue on her back and chest itched. No, this could not be happening.

      Her legs gave out, and she sprawled on the floor next to the bed. She stared up at the ceiling as her brain swirled with the implications of what she’d done.

      She’d had sweaty, dirty monkey sex with Heracles’s son. She was so screwed, she’d be lucky if she could hold her head up at the next inter-company mixer. Her hands curled into fists.

      She was going to kill Mason and make it look like an accident. She was an Enforcer; she was good at things like that. He’d never even realize it. The bastard. He’d probably tell his man-whore dad all about her begging him for his cock. Impotent tears burned her eyes as she imagined the hard-earned respect she’d gained over the last two thousand years slipping away from her.

Links for Danica Avet:

Twitter: @danicaavet

Buy Links:

Tuesday, May 8, 2012

Author Spotlight - Doris O'Connor

It's a double dose of romance today with our special guest, the amazingly talented Doris O'Connor. Doris has two books out this week, both released by Evernight Publishing. So sit back, relax, and enjoy an overload of sexy, steamy scenes from her upcoming works.

Book Blurb:

Can one night change your life forever? 

Estelle has been lusting after her kinky boss Nathan for ages, but how you do you snare a much older Dom? You enlist the help of the internet.

Matched to exploration facilitator Ink, Estelle explores her submissive fantasies to the full. When online sex turns to a real life ménage will a case of mistaken identity ruin her chances with Nathan?

Or will the shifter claim his mate?

Here's an excerpt from Riding Her Tiger:

"Lean back against me, and relax. Nothing is going to happen, yet." Her stomach tightened at the growled words into her neck, and she watched as he grabbed the huge sponge by the side of the bath and proceeded to run it up and down her arms slowly. He washed every inch of her body with great care. Her breasts grew heavy and her breathing shallow, her nipples jutting out into the humid air of the bathroom, and he smiled into her neck. By the time his hands reached her pussy she was so aroused the slightest scrape of the sponge against her labia sent her tumbling into an orgasm.
Ink groaned into her neck, and she froze. Shiiit! He hadn't given her permission to come. 
"Ah, sweetheart, that was fucking hot, but not very wise." Her eyes flew open at Grisha's husky words, and her mouth went dry. "We'll have to think of a suitable punishment, Ink." The Russian was stark naked, his huge swollen cock jutting up out of its nest of thick, black hair, to his tight abdomen, the tip glistening with drops of pre-cum. She hadn't been able to fully appreciate the sheer size of him before, and she licked her lips. He smiled at her and fisted himself with slow, measured strokes. Her cunt clenched, and her insides tightened, recalling his earlier promise. She was never going to be able take him in her ass.
As if Ink had heard her thoughts, his hands spread her ass cheeks, and his fingers probed. She bit her lip at the invasion of two and then three long fingers.
"Indeed we will, Grisha." She squirmed as he thrust his fingers in and out of her tight hole. He pinched her clit with his other hand, and Estelle moaned as the pain zinged along her pussy, to join with the sensations spreading from her ass. She whimpered when he released the tight nub of nerves only to repeat the action, again, and again. Her labia swelled and throbbed, and she writhed in the water, dimly aware of Grisha joining them in the bath. He knelt in front of her, and his hands grabbed her hips, holding her still.
"Stop moving, and take your punishment like a good little sub, sweetheart." He smiled when she went still, and Estelle bit her lip to stop herself from moaning. She watched as he leaned forward and took one of her nipples in his mouth. He bit down hard, and tears sprang into Estelle's eyes.  He soothed the sting with his tongue and then repeated the action to the other nipple. Ink pinched her clit in time to Grisha's bites, his fingers in her ass pushing deeper and deeper, until Estelle couldn't distinguish between the waves of pain swamping her. Pain that morphed into something else entirely. Unable to keep her eyes open, she let her head fall back onto Ink's shoulder. Her body felt lighter, every nerve-ending on fire, sending pulses of heat through her veins, Ink's murmured encouragements in her ear grounding her in the here and now.
Her skin tightened, and her clit throbbed in time with the waves rushing through her. She shuddered when cool air hit her wet flesh, before she encountered smooth leather. Ink pushed her down until her breasts were flattened against the padded bench, and she gasped as her legs and arms were fastened. Before she could panic at being restrained to the spanking bench, Grisha's face was in front of her.
"Focus, sweetheart, on me. Breathe with me, and count the strokes." He looked behind her, and Ink's warm hands massaged her butt cheeks.
"She really has a fantastic ass, Grisha. She'll look hot as sin when it's nice and pink from our hands." Ink's voice send tingles of awareness through her, and her panic subsided. His hand dipped lower and spread her pussy lips. He bit her ass, and she squirmed when his fingers sank deep into her already weeping channel. He curled them into a figure of eight, and Estelle panted her excitement as her sensitized tissues responded instantly.
She closed her eyes against the knowing smirk on Grisha's face.
"How is she doing, Ink? Though I bet she's wet for us."
Estelle screwed her eyes shut tighter at Ink's chuckled confirmation.
"Now remember, Estelle, no coming until I give you permission, or you'll be strapped to this thing for a very long time indeed." Ink's voice had lost its amusement, and Estelle breathed her confirmation.
"Good girl, sweetheart, you can do it." Grisha brushed a kiss across her lips. "Now count."
The first slap took her by surprise, and she screeched.
"Count, Estelle." Ink's voice brooked no argument.
"O…one." She bit back tears and barely caught her breath before the next slap came. "Two." Slap. "Three…"
Grisha's hands massaged her shoulders. He murmured Russian words she didn't understand, the warmth of his hands chasing away the goose bumps spreading over her body. Her butt on fire, the strange floating sensations returned. Her pussy clenched with each slap of Ink's hand across her ass until all of her senses heightened. Every trickle of her arousal down her legs left a wave of fire in its wake, sensations too intense to name consuming her. Her body climbed, tensing, clenching, clamoring for the tension within to burst to freedom.
With one last slap hard enough to send her body forward along the bench as far as the restraints would allow, Estelle breathed, "Fifteen."
"Good girl, you did so well." She hardly heard Grisha over the rushing in her ears, her heart beating so loudly, she felt sick. She winced at the coolness placed over her burning ass, and when her restraints were removed she collapsed into Ink's arms.

Book Blurb:

Marco Giovanni has shut off his emotions, following a messy divorce. His small daughter and his chain of bakeries are all he needs in his life. The string of nannies are an unfortunate necessity he could well do without. So why does his body have to remember its needs now with the latest and most unsuitable nanny ever?

Elise has always been the responsible one, so when she receives yet another SOS phone call from her wayward twin, she does the only thing she can do, she steps into her shoes. Having to go back to nannying is hard enough, the unexpected attraction to her arrogant employer impossible to deal with. Especially when she is forced to agree to a marriage of his convenience to pay off the debt her twin accrued.

In a marriage based on blackmail can passion turn into love, or will secrets and lies destroy all?

Here's an excerpt from Too Cold To Love:

Marco's knowing gaze met hers in the bathroom mirror, and the heat she saw in his eyes started a slow answering fire deep within her. Awareness sparked between them.
The towel slowly slipped from her fingers. The ice hit the tiled floor with a thud and broke the spell. She almost ran into the other room and frantically tried the other door.
"I have it on good authority that they are fire doors, my lovely, so I'd give up now. I like your shoulders just the way they are, cara mia."
Marco leant against the door frame propped up by his good shoulder, his arms crossed over his chest, a slow smile on his lips. He checked the lock on the bathroom door.
"And I'm pleased to note there isn't a lock on here, lest you decide to go hiding in another bathroom. I seem to recall you were rather fond of that on our honeymoon."
Elise winced, followed by a vivid blush as she remembered their wedding night.
Marco simply smiled. He slowly advanced towards her, and Elise backed away until she bumped into the wall. He reminded her of a predator stalking his prey.
"Marco, we need to talk."
One last long stride brought him so close his thighs touched hers, and he put one hand either side of her head.  His big body crowded her against the wall, and his sinful mouth hovered over hers.
"So talk, cara mia. I'm all yours."
His hot breath fanned across her face, and Elise closed her eyes. She bit back a moan when he kissed her nose and rained butterfly kisses along her jaw line. He suckled gently on just the right spot on her neck to make her knees turn to jelly.
Somehow she found the strength to put her shaking hands on his chest, only to meet hot, hard, male flesh. This time she couldn't stop the very feminine moan escaping. Was that needy sound really her?
Apparently so, judging by Marco's low groan in her ear. He moved his hand to cup her breast, the nipple thrusting shamelessly into his caress.
"You don't sound as though you want me to stop, cara mia. In fact, I would hazard a guess that you're wet enough for me to fuck you right here."
The crude words should have shocked Elise, but instead she whimpered in response to his words. He ground his hips suggestively into hers until the full force of his erection rested against her pussy. Heat flooded between her thighs, and she pulled his head down for kiss.
"You're talking too much, Tarzan."
She caught a quick glimpse of triumph in his glittering eyes before his mouth claimed hers. His tongue tangled with hers, and they both groaned. One of his hands fisted in her hair, and the other lifted her skirt. He cupped her mound and murmured his approval.
"You're so fucking wet for me."
He bunched the sodden material of her underwear in his hand and pulled. The move brought delicious pressure to her clit, and Elise panted in excitement. Cool air hit her slick folds when the material gave way with an audible rip. His large hand replaced the fabric, and her pussy clamped down on the fingers he thrust into her channel. His teeth nipped her neck, nudging her arousal up another notch, and he kicked her feet apart to spread her wider. She clung to his shoulders, rubbing her breasts against his chest, and he swore. He thrust two more fingers into her hungry cunt, and she lifted her leg to give him better access. He withdrew his fingers, and Elise tensed when he inserted one slick digit into her anus.
"Relax, pasticcino."
His eyes sought hers, and he smiled. He kissed her, and Elise relaxed into the strange sensation. When he inserted another finger into her tight hole, she gasped into his mouth. He thrust slowly in and out of her, and Elise pulled him closer to her still, as her hips moved of their own accord. Unused nerve endings sprang to life, and darts of pleasure skittered to her clitoris. Her breath came in short gaps, as her arousal built.
"That's my girl. I knew you'd like this." Marco's strained voice in her ear was the sexiest sound she'd ever heard. She pushed down on his fingers, seeking more, and moaned her disappointment when he withdrew them slowly. He grabbed her buttocks and ground her aching clit into his still covered cock. He thrust into her, and the friction on her throbbing bud proved too much for Elise.
"Please, Marco."
"What, cara mia?"
Marco pulled away, and she groaned.
"What do you want, my wife?"
The heat in his ever darkening gaze stoked her arousal to fever pitch, and she impatiently tugged at his trousers.
"I want you in me, now, Marco."
His eyes darkened further at her whispered plea, and she breathed a sigh of relief when his hands helped her free his cock. It sprung out of its confines up to his taut stomach, and Elise licked her lips in anticipation. She cupped his balls, and it was Marco's turn to groan.
"Jesus, woman, you're killing me."
He pushed her hands away, and Elise arched into his palms, when he pulled down her tank top and exposed her breasts. He kneaded each aching globe, before he pushed them together and laved the nipples in turn. Every suckle sent shards of pure pleasure down towards Elise's clit where delicious anticipation built in waves. She moaned her protest when Marco released the glistening buds and kissed his way back up to her collarbone. She could feel his strained smile before she saw it.
          "Wrap your legs around me. I need to get inside you right now.