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NAUGHTY NINE
Naughty Nine explores the passions of myths ranging from the fair
mermaid to the cry of the lone werewolf. Dare to enter the darkness,
to pass through into the realms of fairy. Seek out forbidden passion
in the arms of an unexpected lover.
Have you dreamed of a handsome werewolf in your garden? Perhaps
a lost love lurks in your past and you always wondered why he never
appeared to you in the daylight hours. Why did dragons demand a
virgin sacrifice? Can a centaur love a human woman? What makes a
male fairy's wings sprout? Can music soothe a demon's fiery soul?
Naughty Nine allows you to peek into the other side of erotic
romance. Ecstasy lurks in the jungles, among the tides and in the
shadows where you least expect it. A collection of nine steamy,
short, erotica tales of unlikely love and passion await you.
Naughty Nine explores the passions of myths ranging from the fair
mermaid to the cry of the lone werewolf. Dare to enter the darkness,
to pass through into the realms of fairy. Seek out forbidden passion
in the arms of an unexpected lover.
Have you dreamed of a handsome werewolf in your garden? Perhaps
a lost love lurks in your past and you always wondered why he never
appeared to you in the daylight hours. Why did dragons demand a
virgin sacrifice? Can a centaur love a human woman? What makes a
male fairy's wings sprout? Can music soothe a demon's fiery soul?
Naughty Nine allows you to peek into the other side of erotic
romance. Ecstasy lurks in the jungles, among the tides and in the
shadows where you least expect it. A collection of nine steamy,
short, erotica tales of unlikely love and passion await you.
| Fantasy Paranormal Erotic Romance |
Available at:
loveyoudivine.com
Amazon.com
And Any Major Bookstore
loveyoudivine.com
Amazon.com
And Any Major Bookstore
Excerpt:
He stood taller than the others of his kind, dark of skin, unlike the males of her species with their fish-
belly, white coloring. A bitter scowl tainted those thin lips of his. The drow wore a leather vest over a
worn, woven shirt, the front of which showed off his broad chest. His leggings hung loose over the length
of his legs and tucked into black boots that had seen many shores. His deep-set, brown eyes shifted over
the dock as he stood waiting for his crew to unload their goods. She wanted him from the moment she
first noticed the sailor. He barked out his orders, one hand on the hilt of his sword. Yneria leaned closer,
trying to take in all of him from her vantage among the crags. The tide was coming in all around the tiny,
hidden island where he lived when he wasn’t sailing. Palms shook in the ocean breeze. The sloshing
waves that beat against her bare skin hid her well.
She knew little of him, only that he was different than the others, angry, mean and strong. Yneria never
saw him smile. She wanted to be the first to see his tight mouth curve in such a way. As she spied on him,
she knew she wanted much more than that. She wanted to feel his body mingling with hers, to taste
those lips and quell his ferocious mood swings. Her body tingled with pent up desire. Her nipples
hardened at the thought of touching his smooth, sun-browned skin.
The last box tottered as his elven crew carried it along the dock. The ship’s captain glared at them until
they disappeared down the long road that led into town. She gripped the rocks waiting to see if he’d go
home or if, like he did on so many other occasions, he would walk along the beach near her hiding place.
Maybe this time, she hoped, he’ll step in for a swim and I can touch him, pull him into the waves with me.
She knew the match was ill-fated. Everything she touched was foul and cruel. Her father used to warn her
of her poor choices, but she ignored his lingering advice, shirking her duties back home beneath the sea.
Lately, her days were spent seeking out the drow captain. She’d had lovers before, but none of her kind.
The men never lasted long, only enough to sate her for a brief interlude and then they’d die beneath the
shimmering light in the depths of the sea.
The captain swept a hand through his russet hair and turned away from the road. His boots clunk-clunked
as he moved to the side of the dock. With grace, he leapt from the edge to land in the sand. His footsteps
whispered as he drew near. Yneria froze, entranced. Already the captain began to unlace his shirt. His
long fingers tugged and tore as if he were angry that the garment did not obey him. He stopped just in
front of her vantage and threw down his vest and shirt. He sat down on the beach and removed his boots,
crinkling his toes beneath the woven leggings he wore. He stripped off the leggings and stood.
Yneria held her breath. He’ll swim. This time, he’s mine. I’ll have him for myself.
The captain untied his pants. They dropped to the sand as did his breaches. Yneria took in his nakedness.
She licked her lips and studied every inch of his chest, his abdomen, the line of dark hairs that led to his
resting phallus. She wanted to wake that organ, to stir the joy she knew must be hiding within him, buried
behind that cold wall of hate. He stretched his arms high, his chest broad and striking. A long scar stood
out across his cheek. It ran too down the side of his chest. Yneria wanted to trace its length with her
tongue to see if it brought him memories of the pain. Men liked when a woman tasted them in any way,
any place. She knew their secrets, their cravings. She wanted the same things.
He stood taller than the others of his kind, dark of skin, unlike the males of her species with their fish-
belly, white coloring. A bitter scowl tainted those thin lips of his. The drow wore a leather vest over a
worn, woven shirt, the front of which showed off his broad chest. His leggings hung loose over the length
of his legs and tucked into black boots that had seen many shores. His deep-set, brown eyes shifted over
the dock as he stood waiting for his crew to unload their goods. She wanted him from the moment she
first noticed the sailor. He barked out his orders, one hand on the hilt of his sword. Yneria leaned closer,
trying to take in all of him from her vantage among the crags. The tide was coming in all around the tiny,
hidden island where he lived when he wasn’t sailing. Palms shook in the ocean breeze. The sloshing
waves that beat against her bare skin hid her well.
She knew little of him, only that he was different than the others, angry, mean and strong. Yneria never
saw him smile. She wanted to be the first to see his tight mouth curve in such a way. As she spied on him,
she knew she wanted much more than that. She wanted to feel his body mingling with hers, to taste
those lips and quell his ferocious mood swings. Her body tingled with pent up desire. Her nipples
hardened at the thought of touching his smooth, sun-browned skin.
The last box tottered as his elven crew carried it along the dock. The ship’s captain glared at them until
they disappeared down the long road that led into town. She gripped the rocks waiting to see if he’d go
home or if, like he did on so many other occasions, he would walk along the beach near her hiding place.
Maybe this time, she hoped, he’ll step in for a swim and I can touch him, pull him into the waves with me.
She knew the match was ill-fated. Everything she touched was foul and cruel. Her father used to warn her
of her poor choices, but she ignored his lingering advice, shirking her duties back home beneath the sea.
Lately, her days were spent seeking out the drow captain. She’d had lovers before, but none of her kind.
The men never lasted long, only enough to sate her for a brief interlude and then they’d die beneath the
shimmering light in the depths of the sea.
The captain swept a hand through his russet hair and turned away from the road. His boots clunk-clunked
as he moved to the side of the dock. With grace, he leapt from the edge to land in the sand. His footsteps
whispered as he drew near. Yneria froze, entranced. Already the captain began to unlace his shirt. His
long fingers tugged and tore as if he were angry that the garment did not obey him. He stopped just in
front of her vantage and threw down his vest and shirt. He sat down on the beach and removed his boots,
crinkling his toes beneath the woven leggings he wore. He stripped off the leggings and stood.
Yneria held her breath. He’ll swim. This time, he’s mine. I’ll have him for myself.
The captain untied his pants. They dropped to the sand as did his breaches. Yneria took in his nakedness.
She licked her lips and studied every inch of his chest, his abdomen, the line of dark hairs that led to his
resting phallus. She wanted to wake that organ, to stir the joy she knew must be hiding within him, buried
behind that cold wall of hate. He stretched his arms high, his chest broad and striking. A long scar stood
out across his cheek. It ran too down the side of his chest. Yneria wanted to trace its length with her
tongue to see if it brought him memories of the pain. Men liked when a woman tasted them in any way,
any place. She knew their secrets, their cravings. She wanted the same things.
| 2008 CAPA AWARD Nominee Best Erotic Anthology The Romance Studio |
