Prison Princess: Sci-Fi Alien Romance
I kiss her. Hard. My body blocks her in, pressing her against the wall so there’s no possibility of escape. My knee slips between her legs and then I kick her feet open. My cock grows harder against the soft skin of her inner thigh and I can’t wait to be inside her.
My fingers slip up into her hair and I pull it until she gasps and lets out a small squeak that will surely make me insane if she does it again. “Did you fuck him?” I ask.
“No,” she says softly. “But I wanted to.”
I laugh. And then I kiss her again. “Fuck, I’ve missed you,” I say, thinking about how warm her mouth will be on my cock.
She smiles, still kissing me back. Coy and teasing now, she says, “I really did want to fuck him. But he’s your brother and that’s kind of gross.”
“Not my real brother,” I say, nibbling at her neck. I want to eat her up. “And he might be interested.” I stop nibbling and pull back just a little. “But we can talk about that later. Right now you’re just mine and I’m not willing to share.”
My other hand squeezes her breast and I hold her there. My little captive. My secret prisoner. Staring into her dark eyes as she looks up at me with longing.
No one has ever looked at me this way. Only Brigit.
“I love you,” I say.
“Doesn’t seem like it,” she quips. “You left me for several eternities this time. I’m not happy. You need to make it up to me.”
She nods, shyly. Trying not to smile.
I twirl her around, push her face up against the hut wall, and bite her shoulder as my cock slips between her legs. “Like this?” I ask, my fingers already playing with her ass.
“Like that,” she whimpers back. “Right now.”
“Better get yourself wet, princess. And you better do it quick. Because I’m not in the mood to wait and I don’t care if it hurts.”
The Body Painter
“Um, hi? I’m…eh, here for the interview?” I stepped warily toward the noise.
Another curse followed by a loud thump.
“I heard you the first time.” A man appeared from the darkness.
A man with shaggy dark hair, five o’clock shadow, and eyes so maliciously green they masqueraded as body parts but were really well-honed weapons.
A man who was bleeding from his temple, limping, and holding his elbow as if it needed reattaching.
“Sorry, I didn’t know if—” I gulped as something long ago tugged in remembrance.
It can’t be…
Recognition slammed into me as forcibly as it slammed into him.
I stumbled under the weight.
Punched by the unbelievable.
“Gil? Oh, my God. Gil!”
More gorgeous than he’d ever been.
I fought every instinct to go to him.
Did my best not to grab him, kiss him, shake him, slap him.
A gust of air blasted through the warehouse as if the winds of fate woke up, felt a tug on whatever linked us together, and clapped its hands in glee, saying, ‘Yes, this will be fun. Let’s put these two back together again.’
“Olin? Fuck…it’s you.” His gaze tore over me as hungrily as mine tore over him.
Time stood still. It reversed. It plopped us right back in the past where this boy had held my heart, and I’d captured his, and together we knew it would always be about us.
There is no more us.
I stumbled toward him, desperate to be nearer despite so much pain. “I can’t believe this. What are you doing here?”
“What am I? What are you?” He tripped in my direction, his face etched with lines I hadn’t seen in his youth, his body all angles and threats. As fast as he’d headed toward me, he halted as if yanked back by a rope. His face fell. His shock at seeing me morphed into hardness.
I didn’t understand how he could change so much in a few short seconds.
Goosebumps decorated me as coldness settled like a cloak around his shoulders.
“I’ve been back in Birmingham two years. I—” I stopped talking, unable to share the secrets that followed such a statement. “I…”
He closed his eyes, shutting me out as if battling something deep within him. Deliberately, he took a step back, his chin coming up, his coldness settling into ice.
The silence that’d chased us in our fledgling romance returned, thick and heavy.
My back prickled. My mouth turned dry.
Too much distance existed between us, swelling with memory of how things had ended, why we were strangers now, and just how much heartbreak had been left behind.
Along with silence came shadows, creeping over Gil’s expression, shutting down any remaining signs of his shock and gratefulness at seeing me. Heartbeat by heartbeat, he hid any sign that my visit was a welcome one.
I struggled, not knowing what to say.
His gaze no longer held happiness, just aching emptiness and suspicion. “How did you find me?” He didn’t give me chance to reply. “You can’t be here, Olin. You need to leave. I don’t want you anywhere near me.”
A Road More Traveled
Diana woke screaming, covered in blood, and found him laying dead by her side.
Her pink nightie was soaked through, sticky, and the room reeked of rust. Frozen in terror she stared at two wounds in the back of his head, each pouring blood. Her head pounded, and her vision was blurry. Was this even real? The warm, sap-substance all over her told her it was. The night before was a giant blank zone in her head, except for the gun. Had she fired it? She vaguely remembered the boom, how it shook in her hand, and acrid smell of gunpowder. A hangover from hell gripped her like a wicked vice, pressing the back of her neck and squeezing painfully.
She tried to get up, tried to run, but her legs dumped her by the side of the bed instead. The blood curdling scream she expelled scared even her. Did that come from her?
Scrambling in the dark for her cell phone on the nightstand, she finally grasped it and pulled it to the floor with her. Dialing 911, she barely waited for an answer before she screamed into the phone, “I’ve killed him! I’ve killed him!”
“Wake up, Diana!”
“No, no, no,” Diana murmured to the phantom telling her wake up, as she thrashed to and fro in the bed. He grasped her waist, pulling her toward him, and hissed in her ear again. “Wake up, please, baby, wake up!”
Diana’s eyes flew open and she lay stiff in his arms.
“George!” She screamed.
Her hands were curled by her sides and her legs straight out, and she couldn’t move. Her chest heaved, and she felt strangled all over again, just like every time he’d wrapped his hands right around her neck. As The remnants of that night slowly subsided, she sunk back into the mattress, this soft, deep one, and realized she wasn’t home.
Nor was it George beside her.
“Diana,” Justin’s voice pled with her again, “Di, please talk to me. You had a nightmare.”
Squeezing her eyes shut, she liked her lips and tried to control her breathing, counting to eight, holding for four, then exhaling for eight more, just like her therapist had taught her. Justin ran his hands down her arms, her waist, her thighs, and it calmed her.
For the first time, her breathing slowed, and she came back to reality much faster.
She finally turned on her side and looked at him, searching his face. “Justin,” she whispered.
About the Author: Karina Espinosa is the Urban Fantasy author of the Sins of the Fallen series and the Mackenzie Grey novels. Infatuated with travel, pop culture, and the need to write everything down, she spends much of her days in front of a computer working on her next book, shopping online, and listening to music. With nomadic tendencies, she is currently resting her head in South Florida until the itch to move strikes again. You can usually catch her on Facebook, Instagram, and live-tweeting during episodes of Game of Thrones and Orphan Black.
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Exploring her mouth lazily, he used ample time to sweep his tongue over her inner cheeks, tasting her.
His faint peppermint flavor mingled with an essence belonging to him alone, fresh and inviting. Musk enhanced his subtly spicy fragrance, each scent potently masculine.
She slumped against him even though she shouldn’t cave this soon or ever. This fantasy was on her terms, not his. She was no man’s plaything or afterthought and had better remember as much.
With as much will as she could muster, she pushed his tongue from her mouth and turned her face away.
His rough breaths skimmed her temple. He cupped her breast.
Her blood thickened. Rarely had anything thrilled her as much as his confident and assured caress…perfected during his countless other conquests.
That brought her back to reality fast. She twisted to break his hold on her.
“Hmm.” The sound vibrated in his chest. “Still being defiant, are we?”
She gave him a look. “What do you think?”
He stroked her chin. Even her teeth tingled. Lightly, he brushed his lips over hers. “Not enjoying yourself?”
For too long, she’d wished for this moment.
Author: MLJ Quigg
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Editor: Kaylene Osborn (Swish editing and design)
Publication Date: August 16th, 2019
Hosted by: Lady Amberâs PR
Australian author MLJ Quigg â lives in NSW, Australia, with her husband, three adult children, and six catsâyes, you heard that right, six.
Growing up in a huge family of eight kids was always noisy and didnât give her enough alone time to unwind.
Books have always given her an outlet from the craziness that is her life. Nothing is better than curling up with a good story to take her mind off her surroundings.
As a new author, she hopes you enjoy her stories and helps you get out of your world and into hers for a few hours.
Title: The Elite Series
Author: Jonathan Yanez
Genre: Urban Fantasy
Publisher: Archimedes Books
Hosted by: Lady Amber's PR
Blurb: When life knocks you down you get back up and when it bites, you bite back.
For Connor Moore, life has been a beast and it's not about to get any easier.
You see Connor's not your everyday average run of the mill young adult character stuck in a story we've all heard before. He's an elite human carrying an extra DNA strand that you and I don't have and it's just begging to be activated.
I could tell you more but this is a spoiler free zone. All I can say is that we covered our bases on this one including; adventure, action, romance, suspense, comedy and characters.
Don't take my word for it I'm pretty biased. Grab your copy now and get ready for an all nighter, lost in the pages of what could be.
Amazon: https://amzn.to/2YVFDLVMore animal than man, he bleeds caffeine and... Ah, I'm just kidding. It sounded cool though right?
I'm Jonathan, a former personal trainer turned full-time author and part-time model.
I could go on and on about how many books I've written and awards I've won and blah, blah, blah but I'd rather use this time for you to get to know the real me.
I write because that's what I was born to do and I freaking love doing it. Because of awesome people like you, I get to do it full time.
Connecting with fellow lovers of the written word is important to me so please join the Pack via my website at www.jonathan-yanez.com where you can grab an exclusive story or hang out with us at www.facebook.com/groups/1944447962437071/
Hope you decide to stay in touch,
Taken by the Beast
I shook my head. I didn’t want to stay here, in some place where they spun tales tall enough to make your best friend sleep with a gun under her pillow.
I didn’t want to be that person, not for anything. And something told me that if I stayed here long enough, I wouldn’t be able to help it.
Hell, the Sears Catalog always needs models.
I punched my pillow, trying not to think about this ridiculous place, about all it had seen me lose.
“Idiots,” I muttered, climbing into bed. “They turn their town into a pressure cooker and then they make monsters out of thin—”
A sudden howling cut off my words.
Tensing, I threw off my covers and lurched for the window.
The sound was nothing. A dog, or something. I would prove that to myself.
I glared out into those goddamn woods. See, nothing. Absolutely--
A shadow moved between the trees, hulking and burly, but also tall. Too tall to be an animal.
I blinked hard, once, and then again. When I looked back, there was nothing there.
Stop it, Char.
This place would drive me crazy if I let it. It was nothing. An animal.
I got back in bed, trying to feel more New York and less New Haven.
But somewhere in the back of my mind, I couldn’t let go of the howl…or the markings…or the dead girl who looked just like me.
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