A Smut Marathon!

The incomparable Alison Tyler has, with her amazing ability to challenge writers everywhere, began a Smut Marathon.  When she opened the call for writers to participate I couldn’t resist tossing my hat in the ring, and despite everything going on in my life right now I think I can manage 250 words every couple of weeks!

Of course, she’ll tell you I slid in under the wire for yesterday’s due date…I promise, AT, I’ll try not to do that again!

So please take yourself over and vote for your favorite piece!  This is something like an American Idol contest(or so I’m told, I’ve not watched it) where the receiver of the most votes gets immunity and the bottom two are eliminated.  The lineup is amazing, so be sure to take a look!

Might be away for a bit….

Life has taken a bit of a spin for me.  I’m not sure what exactly the future holds, but it’s definitely holding something new.  So.  Writing, blogging, and tweeting, for that matter, I do believe will be on sabbatical for a bit.  Bear with me, okay?

The Dirtyville Project goes YouTube!

Courtesy of the talented Willsin Row The Dirtville Project, Dirtyville/Kinkyville, now has a promo trailer!  So check it out, and if you haven’t gotten your copies of the books do it!  They’re hot, sexy, awesome collections from some amazing authors 🙂

And just in case you need direction to where to get these lovely anthologies, some linkage!

For all things Dirtyville, including links, inside stories and merchandise visit the official Dirtyville Blog

Flash Serial:The New Canvas ~ Part 13

This is a continuation of a serial piece of erotic fiction.  You may wish to start at the beginning,here.

_________________________


The week passed far too quickly for Victor’s comfort.  Before he was prepared Friday was upon him and he was forced to enter his studio and prepare for Alexandra’s arrival.  He had to finish her piece; finish it and get her the hell out of his life.  The screen with her artwork taunted him, the form suddenly looking unfinished.  He snarled and turned his back on it, thankful the line work was complete.  He knew, far too intimately, what happened when arousal began to interfere with his vision.

Victor refused to turn when the distinct, cursedly familiar cadence of Alexandra’s footsteps sounded down the hall, pausing for a brief moment in the door way.  He forced his muscles to obey, to resist tensing under her gaze, and swallowed a sigh of relief when she resumed her progress.  The vinyl of the table creaked and he found himself far too aware of her quiet exhale as she laid down.  His stomach tightened, full of lead winged butterflies, as he thought of the work necessary.  The piece was complete up to her kneecap; tonight he would work on her thigh.  His cock twitched and he closed his eyes against the surge of memory.  He could still remember the hot taste of her mouth, the easy way she fit against him.

The artist steeled himself, preparing for the sight of her, pulling his table into position before turning around.  His breath would have escaped in a gasp if his chest hadn’t locked up in bands of constricting muscles.  Alexandra lay waiting, fingers laced across her stomach, eyes closed, face devoid of expression.  Her skirt lay in a disarray pulled up to her hips revealing the lengths of her legs, long and tan; his fingers twitched.  Get it together, Victor, he snarled at himself and forced his body into motion.

Alexandra’s skin jumped like a fly-bitten horse’s when his hands arranged her leg with careful touches.  Her silken flesh stirred his blood again and he swallowed hard.  He could do this.  He could finish the piece and erase this woman from his life.

Unlike the last one who got under his skin, who still haunted him.

It started as flowers.  A simple chain of jasmine that tumbled from Sasha’s left shoulder to her right hip, crossing the graceful curve of her spine.  Victor had nearly finished it when she turned and kissed him, her tongue hot and promising in his mouth.  When he woke the next morning, watched the rising sun stretch across her back he knew something else was needed.

A sinuous cherry branch joined the jasmine, delicate pink blossoms supported by dark twigs, etched into her skin over the course of two months, much longer than it should have taken.  He simply couldn’t keep his hands off her, couldn’t focus on the work.

When he began inking the prickling vine of Eglantine rose he knew he had to finish the tattoo and end the affair.  Every day she twisted him into a painful knot, sharp barbs of her words drawing blood, leaving invisible wounds that never seemed to heal.  And still her body lay claim to his, her teeth marked his skin, nails dug furrows in his flesh.  It had taken finding her with someone else, seeing Sasha twined around another man, whispering in his ear, hand cupped over his groin, to catalyze Victor’s determination.  He finished the tattoo in one night, resisting her attempts at seduction, driving the ink into her skin as he detailed each painful thorn.

When she left, casting a last volley of razor edged words to slice his heart, he swore he’d never let it happen again, never let another woman get under his skin.

Victor’s hands trembled briefly as he set his sausau in place, taking a deep breath, refusing to let his eyes linger on the shadowy junction of her thigh.  He could do this.  He had to.

~*~

Come back next week for the continuation…

A front row seat…

A front row seat is not always a good thing…especially when you’re waiting for a writer to post the next chapter.

Bear with me folks.

I’m in a staring contest with my muse(read:writer’s block). So far she’s winning.  As soon as I can get past the wall and get her back on track we’ll be back to our regularly scheduled programming of The New Canvas.

Flash Serial:The New Canvas ~ Part 12

This is a continuation of a serial piece of erotic fiction.  You may wish to start at the beginning,here.

__________________________________________


Alexandra’s body shook with the intensity of the kiss.  Victor’s fingers dug into her skin, eight points of near pain that anchored her, his mouth, lips, tongue demanded and she opened with willing eagerness.  Her lungs burned with the need to breathe even as her grip on the back of his neck tightened.  She could feel him, hard and unyielding, pressed against her.  She couldn’t help the whimper when he tore his mouth from her with a groan.  Her chest heaved as she gulped for air and he drew a ragged shuddering breath.  A tremble shook her spine when she tried to bring her lips back to his and he ducked his head, leaving them with their brows together.

“Alexandra, no.”  Her name on his lips evoked a riot of emotions in her, spoken in a hoarse voice that spurred a blossom of heat between her thighs.  “Please don’t,” she whispered, feeling him collect himself, the ripple of tension along his body.  Victor pulled back, icy, no, blue-hot eyes capturing hers.  His words tore through her in a riptide of desire and frustration.  “I can’t, Alexandra.”

She stared at him in confusion, quivering in his grasp like a wind stroked leaf.  “Why?”  Alex wasn’t going to let him push her off again, not without an explanation.  He groaned, jaw flexing under her fingers and pushed her from him.

“It’s private.  I don’t have to explain myself to you.”

She struggled to get words passed her lips, her voice failing to form  anger twisted with her attraction for him.  Like a freak summer storm fury tore through her.  Her hand exploded against his cheek, the crack startling Alexandra as much Victor.  “You bastard,” she snarled and fled.
~*~
“Al, honey, calm down, you’re not making any sense.”

Alexandra continued to pace, her skirt swirling around her calves with each pivot.  Her pulse still pounded with her rage, cheeks bright with color.  “I want to kill him,” she growled.

“Do you want to kill him or fuck him.”  She stumbled to a halt, turning to stare at her friend, her crude statement shocking her silent.

“C’mon, Al.  Sit down and tell me what’s going on.  You’ve been vague for weeks.”  Stacy clasped her wrists, tugging her towards the couch.  “We’re best friends, sweetie.  Spill it.”

Alex collapsed onto the cushions, her energy deserting her.  Haltingly she revealed the whole strange dance between herself and Victor, fingers plucking at the fabric of her skirt, eyes staring unseeing across the room.  When she began relaying her morning her friend startled her silent with a growl.

“I’m going to kill him for you.  What the hell?”  The vehemence made her laugh and she finally let her anger go.

“You know, you’re right, Stacey.  What the hell is right.”  Alexandra jumped to her feet, reaching a hand to Stacey.  “C’mon, best friend o’mine.  We’re going dancing.  Anyone who treats me like that isn’t worth my time.”

“Damn straight, Al.  We’ll get the girls together and paint the town red.”  Stacey dragged her off to the bedroom to change and Alex followed willingly.  She’d be damned if she would let a man treat her like that.
Though how she’d face him next week was beyond her.

~*~

Continue reading in part 13 of The New Canvas

Flash Serial:The New Canvas ~ Part 11

This is a continuation of a serial piece of erotic fiction.  You may wish to start at the beginning,here.

The body in his arms felt perfect.  Victor couldn’t remember the last time he’d woke with a woman in his arms, perfect ass cradling his morning hardon; he wondered at such a vivid dream.  He nuzzled his face into the warm neck before him, rocked his hips, sliding his cock through the soft crease.  Some small part of his mind pondered if this was what Alexandra would feel like in his arms, if she would smell so delicious, so mouthwatering.  She arched into him, hips pushing back, neck arching, offering more to him.  A low hungry growl rumbled in his throat and his lips parted to taste the proferred skin.  She moaned, the sound making his blood pulse, and he rolled into her, pushing Alexandra onto her stomach.  His dream woman lifted her hips so readily he groaned and pulled her back to him by her waist.

“Yess,” she hissed and cold reality poured down his spine as he felt the bunched skirt around Alexandra’s waist, glimpsed her bowed spine and tousled hair in the dim light of morning.  Victor threw himself back, landing on the floor with a thud, cock rigid and tumescent, blood hot with desire.  He shook.  Alexandra twisted around and knelt, arms wrapping around herself, expression shrouded in shadows.

“I’m sorry.  That should never have happened.”  The words came out strangled, clipped and she jerked as if struck.  He growled under his breath, turned and stalked to the bathroom, twisting the water on and stepping under the icy needles of the spray.

~*~

He emerged half an hour later chilled but calmed, his erection gone.  She waited in his kitchen, back to him, hands wrapped around one of his chipped coffee mugs.  Victor had hoped she would leave, flee.  “I hope I made the coffee to your liking,” she said without turning.  Her voice was sparse, hushed, and he felt the leadweight of guilt settle in his stomach. The sunwarmed floor radiated into the soles of his feet as he entered the kitchen.

“I’m sorry, Alexandra,” he said gently.  She kept her eyes fixed on her coffee and shrugged a shoulder.  He sighed and crossed to the other side of the island, leaning against the counter and touching a finger to her chin.  He heard her swallow as she tilted her head, bringing shadowed, haunted eyes to his.  His body hummed with awareness at her nearness, cock stirring once again.  Her gaze searched his and he clenched his jaw as she leaned, near imperceptively, into his touch.  Never had a woman crawled so easily, so thoroughly under his skin.  Victor didn’t know how to handle it.

She broke the silence first.  “I can’t help that I want you.”  His gut lurched and cock throbbed with the surge of blood; he closed his eyes, searching for control.  Her hands pressed against his jaws, and he  growled when her lips brushed his.

“I don’t sleep with clients, Alexandra,” he said, barely recognizing his own voice.  Her lips returned, more insistent, tongue slipping out to taste the curve of his lower lip.  He groaned, restraint cracking, dropped his hands  to her hips and pulled her into him.  Her wanton whimper made his blood run hot and he buried his hands in her hair, giving in to the need to savage her mouth.  Victor slanted his lips  against her, kissing her hard, tongue demanding entrance, plunging into her hot mouth when she opened to him.  He had to taste her, had to feel her, just for a moment, just to get her out of his system.

Continue reading in part 12 of The New Canvas

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