Friday, January 18, 2019

Heat Things Up With These Steamy Stories!

Brrrr, it's cold outside. Come warm yourself up with these hot Donovan's Door stories, some for sale and some for free:

Take a peek into my deliciously deviant world as my characters navigate love, life, and play in my book "Kinksters at Play."
Come have some fun! Please check out my novel of interconnected kink stories from Deep Desires Press all about living and loving as a kinky person.
And Listen to an Excerpt
Peter looked at Kat, curled tight away from him even as she sat in his arms, a bit helplessly. “I don’t know what I’m doing,” he said almost inaudibly, ashamed. “I don’t know how to do this.”

“You don’t know how to be married,” she asked cautiously, “or you don’t know how to be married to me?”

He shook his head. He didn’t know. “I just want to be able to give you all the things men give their wives. Security. Love. Respect. A home.” He touched her cheek softly. “I want to take care of you, Kat.”

He just didn’t know how to do that and do this at the same time.

Check out my other Deep Desires story featuring Kat & Peter in Give to You: 
See what happens after Kat & Peter's happy ending in my story from Deep Desire Press!
And Listen to an Excerpt

God, he loved her so much. For a year now, she’d been working her way inside him.
No, not even working. She hadn’t done anything except be herself; this beautiful, amazing, sexy-as-hell creature he no longer knew how to be without.
As he pocketed the ring, he knew—in the most elemental, visceral way—that, if he ever lost her, a part of him would always walk around broken. Peter shook his head as he crumpled up her note. He couldn’t lose her.
But he just didn’t know how to keep her either.

Check out this amazing anthology written in response to the 2016 election, featuring my stories "When There Are No Words" and "The Help:" 
Erotica is an expression of rebellion. Please check out my stories in Coming Together's defiant, charity anthology that celebrates diversity and equality in the face of our uncertain future! Available Now On
And Listen to an Excerpt

But then, when they’d gotten home, Kat had wrapped herself so tightly around him. Holding onto Peter as if he were an anchor keeping her from getting lost in the rapidly shifting world. Even now, after holding her for what felt like forever, there still was such desperation in that embrace. 
He didn’t know what to do. Peter was a fully-grown man, there wasn’t much he was afraid of—it’d been decades since he’d let the dark or its monsters frighten him—but the strength of her fear sliced through him with chilling terror, leaving him weak and powerless.
He was her husband, her lover, her Dom, for God’s sake, but there was nothing he could do. Nothing he could tell her. It felt so wrong, but it was true. What was there to say? What words could fix what had happened? What could he do as the world around them shifted?

Watch Kat & Peter from my book Kinksters at Play fall in love in my first novel, The Taming School
LEARNING A NEW WORLDPlease check out my novel The Taming School from Sizzler Editions that explores discovering kink!Available Now On 
 Your Choice of These Digital StoresAnd Listen to an Excerpt

“Is that what you want?”
“Yes.” So much she felt crushed beneath its weight.
“What do you want?”
“You.” Wasn’t that obvious? She thought it pitifully so.
“What do you want me to do?”
She looked up questioningly at him. He knew what she wanted. It was why she’d come here, why she’d posted that damn ad that had started this whole thing. She didn’t understand where he was going with all his questions.
As if reading her confusion, he shook his head. “Say it.” Gripping her chin in his hand, Peter urged her, “Learn the words, Katherina. Tell me what you want.”

Enjoy this anthology that celebrates consent, featuring my story "Donovan's Door:" 
Please check out my story in The New Smut Project's anthology and see how consent makes everything sexier!

“I think that’s why I trust you so much,” Kat told Peter, placing a hand over his. “Because, whatever I decide, you’re there for me. Supporting me. You challenge me to do and try new things without ever making me feel like I have to. Without ever making me feel bad for hesitating or doubting. It makes me want to do and try all those things. You make me feel safe enough to want to.”

He brought their joined hands to his lips, kissing the back of her hand. “What are you saying, Kat?” he asked. “Tell me what you want.”
Say the words. Kat inhaled deeply. “Wanna play?”
He grinned. “Always, Katherina,” he said, his voice a sexy rumble. “What do you want?”
The words. “I want to play,” she stated. “With you. Here. Now. I want to show everyone.”
“Show them what?” he asked, squeezing her hand.
“Us,” she said simply.

Have some on-the-job fun in this sexy anthology, featuring my story "Overtime:" 
Please check out my story "Overtime" in this sexy collection & let it whisk you away from the office and into sixteen stories that explore sex in the working world.
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Kat smiled and took Peter by the hand, leading him from her cubicle into the commanding space, where all the important meetings were held and announcements were made. From the time she’d been hired, this had been the room where every important professional moment happened and, if she were honest, it had always intimidated her a little.
It was perfect.
“Kat?” A confused laugh touched his voice while she sat him down at the head of the conference table in the seat of power, the one always reserved for the president of the company. “What are you up to?”
She pushed him back into the chair. It was strange to be taller than Peter, to be above him. It wasn’t that Peter was a particularly tall man. It was just that Kat was particularly short. Just barely five foot, she rarely got to look down at anyone.
She smiled.
She liked it. 

Get ready for some pre-wedding play in my FREE story "Have and Hold" 
She sighed. “I just don’t know how to do this,” she admitted quietly to him. “Balance these two parts of my life.” How did she reconcile the quiet, reserved woman she was in the bar, surrounded by family and friends as they talked about floral arrangements and future children, with the sensual pleasure-seeker she could be in the basement? Kat was good—fantastic, ecstatically happy—when the two sides stayed separate. When she could enjoy one without worrying about the other.

But here she was. Relatives being regaled by rope tops.  Coworkers circulating with crop-wielders. Old college friends catching up with kinksters of all kinds. Her worlds were colliding. It all made her want to shrink underneath the tables like a junior high student on parent-teacher conference day.

“Hang in there,” the knowing man next to her told her, laying a comforting hand on her shoulder. “It’ll all be over in a few days.”

And, as always, I hope you enjoy the event!

Find even more great reads and Put Your Money Where Your Orgasm Is!

Also, find out how you can support me and collaborate with me on my Patreon Page!

Tuesday, January 1, 2019

Dear God, How Has It Only Been a YEAR?! - 2018

So, I’d kicked off last year with a dare: “Bring it on, 2018; I am ready.”

Turns out, I was not ready.

If I thought last year was rocky, this year was a freaking mountain range!

I’d begun it with a fabulous cruise, full of sun and relaxation.

Only to have my mother suffer a stroke the day after I came back.

It was one of the most terrifying days of my life. I don’t know how I would have gotten through it without my partner. He’s always been amazing, but this year he’s been the best.

For a romance and erotica writer, I personally haven’t loved that many people in my life. I didn’t grow up with very many examples of great, or even functional, love and far too many bad ones. I think I read and wrote and consumed so many love stories because I needed to explore, discover, and teach myself what love meant to me.

I still do.

And, if all that led me to him, the journey, rough and winding paths and all, has been well worth it. He’s been my steadiness during the worry and work of my mother's recovery, my escape when the stress of it all became overwhelming, and my strength and support when I needed it most.

Like when my family turned on me and left me and my mother to fend for ourselves. Or when we found out our apartment had mold because we called city inspectors in when they wouldn’t fix our broken window for five months. Or when we had to fight with our landlord to get out of our lease. Or when our apartment began feeling unsafe, both structurally and on a security level. Or when we had to struggle to find and move into a new place. Whether I needed him to calm me, cuddle me, or kick me in the ass, he’s been there for me in a way no one else ever has and I am so grateful to and for him.

I’m also incredibly thankful to and for my amazing friends who’ve been so supportive this year, from being tireless sounding boards, to selflessly helping me move, to bringing me and my mom groceries when her doctor appointments and rehab schedule didn’t give us much time for all those unavoidable but hard-to-fit-in errands. They are awesome and I really want to make it a goal to set more time to spend with them this year. They are so important to me and I did not get to see them enough this past year. I've missed them terribly.

But mountains aren’t all cratering valleys; there have been some amazing peaks.

Like getting two new novels published, one weaving together stories from old favorite characters and another featuring a brand new world. And, of course I’ve been lucky enough to have more stories including in more anthologies and websites this year, as well as my very first Patreon requested story, which was so much fun to work on.

I also got to make some authorial appearances this year, which was amazingly fun. Doing panels at CONvergence was so much fun; it was so much fun to talk directly with people about the topics and subjects I love, like kink and consent and nerdery. And to get to do it all in costume makes it all the better.

Then getting the exciting opportunity to do a reading with Amber Tamblyn on her book tour stop in Minneapolis was nerve-wrackingly exhilarating. I’d never done a live reading like that before and to have that be my first was more than I could hope for.

Then, just a few weeks ago, I got to be on Deep Desires’s podcast and talk about my book Kinksters at Play. It was right in the middle of me getting ready to move, so I was so tired and frazzled, but it was a bright, fun moment in all the chaos.

I also got to see Hamilton, a show that speaks to me as a writer, a person of color, and an American. I love it so much and am so glad that my partner got tickets, right around July 4th, right when I needed a renewal of faith in my country. Like I said, he's the best!

He also took me and my friends to ValleyScare this year, even though he hadn't been on a ride since childhood and had never been to a haunted house, so a haunted theme park was definitely a risk. And, even though we found out that his enjoyment for rides doesn't quite reach mine, we still had so much fun.

As for the coming year, I’ve got a few more anthologies in the pipeline and am working with a new erotica app, Sunsette, which will hopefully launch soon! 

Also, having had to take a bit of a writing break with all the craziness of this year, I can’t wait to dive back into it. I have so many stories that I want to tell; I can't wait to share them!

Moving has also reintroduced me to my outrageously fun wardrobe and I really want to get back into taking photos again, though because of all the FOSTA/SESTA TOS madness, that might only happen on Fetlife.

TL;DR: 2018 has been as exciting as it was exhausting and I’m hoping to tilt those scales in a more positive, less stressful direction in 2019. Keep the good, hopefully leave the bad behind. So less of a crowing “Bring it, 2019” dare this time and more of a cautiously optimistic “I’m keeping my fingers crossed” resolution.

Happy New Year!

Tuesday, October 30, 2018

Take a Taste - Free Halloween Story!

Take a bite out of my new spooky Halloween Microfiction erotica story from Circlet Press “Playing With Your Food” and discover just how scary and sexy spiders can be. 

Hope you enjoy and have a deliciously happy Halloween!

Available Now for FREE

Thursday, October 25, 2018

Empathy Toddlers With Emotional Object Permanence Problems

Ah, today I had to school my white coworkers on why Megyn Kelly is trash and blackface is ALWAYS wrong. 

"But, c'mon, it's just Halloween."

"It's like we can't even have a discussion about it."

"Is it really THAT big of a deal really?"


1 ) Kelly is an intelligent journalist who knows what she's doing and does so to a massive platform, complete with graphics and segment producers, so, yes, I don't think it's too much to ask that she not talk out of her ass and say ignorant, offensive things on her television show that is aired to millions of impressionable viewers daily. Or, if she is truly not capable of that (which, history shows us may be the case ::cough, cough:: white Santa ::cough, cough::), then she should be prepared for the consequences, which can and should include having that massive, daily-million-viewer platform taken away. We live in a country that protects our right to say whatever crazy shit we want, but television shows are not protected rights, not even by the first amendment.

2 ) And my coworker couldn't understand that point until I compared it to Rosanne Barr. If you know and enjoy having the ears and eyeballs of millions of viewers, maybe understand that you can't get pissed when we see you being shitty. You got into a business where you wanted to be seen. You did shitty things on platforms where you wanted it to be seen. You got seen. Deal with it. In fact, enjoy.

3 ) If you want to have an intelligent, interesting, impactful discussion about race and costumes and PC-culture, then maybe...maybe think about having at least ONE person of color on your damned segment about the impact of treating race or culture as a costume. It's shitty practice to not have a diverse panel on your show about any topic, but to have a segment about race with an all-white panel, shame on you. That's irresponsible and basic as hell. And it's shitty television to boot!

4 ) And my coworker couldn't get that point until I compared it to the panel of all male lawmakers deciding women's health. YOU DON'T GET TO DECIDE WHAT'S HARMFUL TO OTHER PEOPLE. If it doesn't directly affect you, then realize, yeah, your opinion is worth less. Not worthless. But, yes, worth less. Because IT DOESN'T AFFECT YOU. You don't understand the issue as well as the people who are affected by it. Just because it isn't a big deal to you, does not mean it's not a big deal. That's object permanence in empathy form; stop being an emotional toddler.

5 ) If it's really not a big deal to you, maybe stop fighting for it so hard. Is blackface really the hill you want to die on? Or could you, I don't know, just NOT do it? Is it really that hard? Is blackface a necessary part of your Halloween experience? Or are you just preparing me for the eventual reveal of your past blackface costume from five years ago? Cause that's what it looks like.

Oh yes and, of course, “But it was okay when I was young.”

1 ) No, it was not. It was socially acceptable when you were young, but it was never okay.

2 ) Know what was also okay then? Discriminating against people of color, women, and the LGBTQ+ community. Wanna tell me those things are okay now? Know what’s still seen as okay now? Paying women less than men for the same amount of work. Firing people for being trans. Creating and enforcing racist laws that protect bigots. Wanna take a crack at telling me that those are all okay? Maybe you need a new moral measuring stick cause the one you’re using is broken as hell.

Look, I would like to point out that my coworkers are not bad people. I like my coworkers. They aren't hateful people. They just have very small social circles, and experiences and beliefs that reflect that. We have a lot of small town/ small suburb dwellers here. Strictly speaking, as a country, we have anti-housing discrimination laws, but still have a lot of racist housing/zoning practices, which means I am literally the only person of color they have regular contact with. And, believe me, that took some getting used to for a lot of them. If they could have seen themselves from the outside when I started working here or, worse, when my assistant, who was black, was working here. They’d be horrified. 

I hope.

To be fair, when things are properly presented and framed just so (usually by taking personal bias out of the equation--hence why I had to compare an all-white panel to an all-male panel in order for the issue to be relatable to her), people are pretty good at seeing things clearly. I'm pretty sure, if I ever pointed out to my coworkers the way they judge promptness and productivity levels between their white coworkers and their coworkers of color, especially in context of centuries of stereotypes about the laziness and incompetence of people of color, they would be horrified. In the same way they're horrified just after they ask me to translate something in Spanish simply because of my last name (I don't speak Spanish, by the way) or if I have soy sauce (not all Asian people carry around packets of it all the time in our purses) or if I know their Asian friend-of-a-friend (no, we don't all know each other). Usually, it takes an awkward beat, but they get there. I honestly do think they understand the problematic nature of these comments and are horrified at their unintentional participation in them. I just also think that that sense of horror only lasts so long before they have to be reminded of that bias again. And again. And, probably, again.

They just need someone to do that for them.

Which is why I will be their "friend of color" who they have awkward conversations about issues they are not familiar with and, hopefully, walk away with a little wider view of the world.

Monday, October 22, 2018

Trash, Creeps, and Asking for It

Sooo, I NEVER want to ever hear anyone say shit like a woman was asking to be harassed or assaulted because of what she wears or how she looks. I also NEVER want to hear about how women need to ridiculously adjust their actions to make themselves safe or avoid danger.

Tonight, I spent hours cleaning out my pantry. At 8:30, I went to throw the massive amounts of trash living in the same place for 22 years inevitably builds up. There was a creepy guy standing outside by the dumpsters. Just standing there. Not smoking. Not seeming to be waiting for someone. Just standing in the shadows next to the place I had to go.

So, trying to not blow the situation out of proportion despite the creepy vibes, I just grab the two over-stuffed bags of trash over my shoulders and give him as wide a berth as possible.

“Big bags for such a little girl.”

Not exactly a pickup line, but still giving me even more creepy vibes. “Yep.” I quickly throw my bags into the dumpsters and turn around, painfully aware that I have six more bags of trash waiting for me in front of my apartment door. I slip my keys between my knuckles and rush for the door.

I see my neighbors wave at me as they get out of their car. I wave back before heading to my apartment, where I stare at the bags of trash I still need to bring down to the dumpsters.

I hear a knock on my door. I see my neighbor there with her partner and she asks me to do her a favor and let her son take my trash down to the dumpsters. Then she tells me that the reason she’d waved was because the creepy man had started to follow behind me.

It was 8:30 in my apartment parking lot. I was in my dad’s old boxers, an old puffy ski jacket, a scrunchy, and not a bit of makeup, not even lipgloss. I’m covered in three-months of leg hair and twenty-two years’ worth of dust, carrying literal trash. And I needed my neighbors, their son, and keys tucked like makeshift brass knuckles to feel safe in my own home.

What’s worse is that now I have to wonder what the guy was doing there. Has he noticed me taking out the trash everyday for a week? Will he be there tomorrow?

No one asks for this. No one wants this. That’s the exact point the women in your life are trying to make: these creeps are not waiting to be asked. They are not asking. That’s precisely what makes them creeps. And it doesn’t really matter what we wear or do, we have to live in a world where, some days, it collectively takes neighbors, their sons, and weaponized keys to throw your trash.

Sunday, October 7, 2018

A Very BOOkish Halloween Treat Facebook Event

Looking for some Halloween romance? 

Come join us for this decadently spooky book event. Exclusive stories, including a special seasonal story from me. More than 20 authors. An online scavenger hunt with an incredible prize basket.

I'll be talking about my novel Open Season at 4:30pm CST on Oct 15. Hope to see you there!

Thursday, October 4, 2018

More Than One Way to Go Bump in the Night - Making the Strange & Spooky Sexy

It's that time of year again and, if you're looking for something to fill you with a titillating case of the shivers, here are some of my happy Halloween Donovan's Door and Faere Trade stories, some for sale and some for free:

Take a little taste of space in my novella that explores what it's like to live and love as an "other" in America with Juli, Kyle, & Dona in "Open Season."
Sometimes really it sucks being female! Please check out my feminist, space alien novella from Less Than Three Press!
And Listen to an Excerpt
- The passion in Kyle’s eyes, the fire of it in his gaze, gives Juli a thrill even as he stands frozen in front of her. Sliding her hand past his shoulder, her wrist touches his skin. Flesh to flesh, she looks at the contrast between them. The way hers, a swirl of colors like an oil slick, looks against his. The feel of her skin, thicker but smoother, against his more delicate flesh, covered in hair—some thick and coarse, others barely there like fine down—and bumps and scars. While he likes to trace the color patterns of her skin, painting her with his fingers, learning the art of her, she likes to read his past in every mark on his body. 

Join some of my cast from my book Open Season in this FREE fun holiday short story, "Space 4 All"
Halloween can be hard when it feels like you can't hide behind a costume. For Pixiso Dona Miles, getting into the spirit of the season seems impossible when it feels like all anyone sees is her alien features. But, with the help of her girlfriend, Betsy Neilsen, maybe she can find a way to have a very happy Halloween! 
Betsy loves Halloween. When you grow up feeling ordinary, there’s something thrilling about being able to put on a costume and become magical. This day gives everyone the space to forget who they are and become whoever and whatever they want to be. And she knows that Dona never really got that as a child. Betsy remembers being horrified when she heard that Dona’s family never celebrate the holiday. She supposes that, as extraterrestrials, when you live your life as something extraordinary, dressing up as ghosts and witches and devils must seem lame, at best, and—considering all the little green men costumes she’d seen as a child—offensive, at worst.

Gear up for some sexy, superhero role play with Danielle & Chris in "Make Me Believe."
Please check out my story in Riverdale Avenue Books' anthology that proves no one knows how to play better than nerds!
Available Now On
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- Danielle bit her lip. Hmmm. “What if,” she mused as she looked about his room, looking for some kind of inspiration. 

Her eyes lit up as she noticed his screensaver had switched to a brightly colored image of some comic heroine. The buff and busty beauty stood tits-out and confident, ready to take on the world. 

“If I had superpowers,” she asked idly, not entirely sure where she was going with this, “what ones would you give me?”

He gave a snort as he pushed up his glasses, giving her a strange, assessing look over his lenses. “Really?” he asked, looking her up and down.

“Yeah,” she nodded. “C’mon,” she encouraged, holding her breath, just hoping that he’d play along, “role play with me.”

Lose yourself in a costume in my political, burlesque performance story with Cadence & Hallie in "Rise & Shine."
Please check out my LGBTQ+ burlesque erotica story, “Rise or Shine” in this anthology that captures womanhood & women on stage & screen in all their beautiful, wonderful glory from Supposed Crimes!
Available Now On
- But, since the election, the Burle-Q girls had been performing as The Risen, sexy Rosen-supporting zombies who shimmy and shamble aimlessly over the stage losing limbs and clothes throughout the dance. A real crowd pleaser.
Stripped of my usual conservative suit or Stepford sweater set, I hardly look like myself. With ample cleavage showing and my long legs exposed by the torn “We Shall Rise” dress, the woman I’d been earlier that day—the prim and proper campaign aide—all but disappeared. With the dark wig and heavy makeup, I couldn’t recognize myself at all.
I adjust my props—a detachable zombie arm and breast—and rush out of the dressing room to the stage wings.
Elin hands out mic packs and says in a hushed whisper, “Good luck, girls, knock ‘em dead.”

Take a bite out of my new spooky Halloween Microfiction erotica story from Circlet Press and discover just how scary and sexy spiders can be in "Playing With Your Food."
I climb over your vulnerable, exposed body, locking my feet around your ankles and knees. My hands press against your shoulders and grip your face. I lean over you, letting you stare into all six of my eyes and feel my breath puff hot on your cheeks between my fangs. “Do you have any idea what I could do to you right now?” What, at a time in my life, I would have, without question or hesitation. Without regret and with sincere pleasure.

Take a peek into the strange and see what looks back in my FREE short story, "Wishing Well."
Please check out my spooky short story from Enchanted Conversation, that gives you a peek at the strange kind of kid I was growing up. And remember to always watch what you wish.
Available Now In
It would have a tail, she decided, and fins—scaly and razor-sharp. Its slick, slimy body would flick quick and impatient around the well’s rounded walls, waiting. But for what? she wondered. Was it trapped in the crumbling stone or just hiding, safe in the cool shelter of shadows, out of the grey-skied humidity that held her hostage in this heavy anticipation she begged would break?

Make some magic with Ben Hayato, from my novel Show Me, Sir, in my story "Alter Ego" 
“So what are you going to do?” he asked, nodding to her as she shuffled the deck. “Do I pick a card, any card?”

With a flick of her hands, she shuffled the rest of the cards. “We’re going to play a game.” 
She flipped the top card in the deck and flashed the eight of hearts. “Basic high card, low card,” she said. “Beat my card,” she said, flipping the next to reveal the jack of spades, “and I’ll take something off.”

He swallowed hard as his gaze shifted south. He liked those rules. “And if I don’t?” he asked.

“Then you do,” she answered simply.

That was a magic trick?

Looking at her, sitting cross-legged across from him, her soft thighs parted and her posture welcoming. 

Yeah, maybe it was a kind of magic. 

Be haunted by my succubus-inspired story with Eli, Jame, & Marisol in "Base & Vile Things."
“Tell me.” Her voice, hoarse and hushed, whispered into the sightless, scopeless space Eli no longer recognized as his room. Without his glasses, the witching hour had warped his pitch-black bedroom, distorting the familiar shapes and scales into strange shades of themselves.

“Say it.” Her tone tightened as he felt Her lean in closer. Her hot breath felt wet as it fluttered against his shivering skin. He bit his lip to seal the words back, blood touching his tongue sharp and metallic like a sacrifice.

He wouldn’t say it. Couldn’t.

Lord knew, he shouldn’t.

“I can make you,” She murmured with a biting sweetness that sunk sharp as the nails that scratched and scored his scalp. “You know I can.”

Utterly unwillingly, he loved Her.

Grapple with ghosts from the past with Mac & San in "The Echos of Impacts."
Mac found San undeniably beautiful, from head to toe. But there were places on her body—along her upper arms and shoulders, snaking up her thighs and hips, even over the bridges of her feet—that felt off limits to him, where red scars scoured her skin in intricate patterns like delicately woven barbed wire. Most of the time, he didn’t think about them. But, the moment he touched them or looked at them too long, his thoughts felt caught.

And it wasn’t as if they made her less attractive. On the contrary. Everything about them, from the sight and feel of them—even just knowing they existed, so often hidden beneath her clothes—almost seemed to call to him. 

Which scared him.“Do they hurt?”

She shrugged, causing her shoulder to touch his fingers. He felt the connection like an icy shock. “Power like that lingers.” She said it so nonchalantly.

He shook his head. “So you just live with the pain?”

Her scoff held centuries. “Doesn’t everyone?”

Explore a side of Adoribull in my Dragon Age fanfics "What You Want of Me" and "Watch Words."
The Iron Bull felt more than saw Dorian step closer. He peered up at the man who stood tall near the bed. The perspective from below was weird and made him feel more than a little uneasy. “It’s a simple question, Bull.” The mage smiled sadly as he touched the Bull’s beard roughened cheek, lifting his face up gently and straightening his spine until they looked at each other eye-to-eye. He gave him a pointed look. “Don’t tell me you’ve never thought about me touching you.” Dorian let his hand slide down over the Bull’s chest, brushing over his nipples. “My hands on your body.” His voice lowered as his fingers dipped low to stroke his thigh. “The taste of you on my tongue.”

Or take a twisted dive into my Disney fanfic "Anything" that explores what I think happens after Tiana's happily ever after.
No one had told her, while Tiana was busy building her fairytale—with her fancy restaurant, her handsome prince, and her dreams and hard work—that anything included a lot of things. Not all of which were what you’d wished for.
So here she was. Rich. Successful. In a dress not even her talented seamstress mother could have dreamed of. Skulking around the cemetery during the witching hour.
Where anything can happen.

Or discover my dark Disney fanfic "A Life Lived" that imagines what happens to Belle after her storybook tale ends.
She wasn’t a princess. Didn’t want to be a princess.

Maybe everyone was right, maybe she was odd. But she didn’t want this. Didn’t want any of it. Didn’t want to be kept in this castle while people twisted up her hair and dressed her up like a doll. 

And still, all that would still be tolerable, would have been worth getting through, if she’d still had her Beast. If she’d still had the one who'd marveled at the world like he were meeting it for the first time. Whose curiosity had sparked her own. Who made life feel new again. There was so very little she wouldn’t put up with for that.

But, somewhere in the loss of the spell, while her Beast became a man, he’d changed.

And, as always, I hope you enjoy and have a holiday Halloween!

Find even more great reads and Put Your Money Where Your Orgasm Is!

Also, find out how you can support me and collaborate with me on my Patreon Page!