Scary can be sexy. Don't believe me? Well, I've challenged 14 authors to prove it. Using either original flash fiction or excerpts from their published work, they will show you how erotic and thrilling fear can be. From edgy games to love that reaches beyond the grave, these authors will make this Halloween to remember.
And if that's not enough, there will be ton prizes and plenty of chances to win! Vote for your favorite and comment with your email to be entered. The more often you comment, the better your chances!
To find out who's participating and what some of the prizes are, click on the picture to the left.
Now, since I'm holding the contest, I'm obviously not participating, but I figured I'd throw in a short excerpt just for fun. I've had this story shelved for awhile now, but I'm planning to take it back out soon and finish it.Comments on this will count as an entry for the grand prizes, but as with the comments throughout the length of the contest, you must include your email to qualify.
I hope you enjoy this and all the other excerpts!
Exclusive Excerpt From Royal Pain
Copyright 2011 Bianca Sommerland
The stillness caused gooseflesh to rise all over her. She felt as though all the powers of the earth were focused on her, waiting for her to obey. Wind rustled the leaves over head and birds twittered, much like the ladies in the hall.
Oh, she didn’t want to listen to him. She couldn’t. No man, not even the one she loved, ordered her to do anything. He could ask, but. . .
No, he’d said he wouldn’t ask.
She dragged her slippers through the dirt and leaves and went to him. Hand on one cocked hip, she tossed her head. “Yes, My Lord?”
He clucked his tongue. “This won’t do, my dear. How am I to enjoy myself if you behave as though I am beneath you.”
“Silence.” His eyes narrowed and she pressed her lips together. He circled her, putting a firm hand on her shoulder when she tried to keep him in sight. “You are beneath me—and will be beneath me—until sunrise.” His hand slipped up to the nape of her neck and squeezed. “Your answer?”
Her nipples drew taut under her bodice and she sucked in a breath. Answer? For a moment she couldn’t remember. She glanced up at the sun, already angling towards the west. They couldn’t possibly remain in the woods all night long. Granted these trees hadn’t fallen victim to Archne’s shadow yet, they were all lush and green. But they wouldn’t be if the spiders caught wind of fresh meat. The trees would die and her and Malkyn would be reduced to bones before the sun rose.
“You must mean until sunset?” She stared at him when he shook his head. “But—”
“You trust me so little, love? I will keep you safe. Do you believe me?” He waited until she nodded, then arched a brow. “Then what is your answer?”
Her answer . . .ah yes. There could be only one. “Yes, My Lord.”
“Very good.” He came to a stop in front of her and tugged as the ties the Earl had done up earlier that day. When she lifted her hands to help he pushed them down to her sides. “Don’t move.”
A little quiver ran from her belly to the juncture of her thighs, as though her body was the string of a harp he’d plucked. The dress was loosened and lowered. The soft summer breeze seemed to play a high tune on her nerves as she stood there, naked before him. Not for the first time, but this was very different than any time before.
Trembling, feeling so very exposed, Carly gave a little start when Malkyn put his hands on her arms. He rubbed them and gave her a warm smile.
“Whatever happens, I want you to keep one thing in mind. You trust me. I will never hurt you in a way you will not find pleasure from.”
Sweet goddess. “But—”
He put a finger to her lips. “Hush.” He pointed at something behind her. “Sit there and do not move until I say you may.”
There was a big old tree with huge, craggily roots covered in thick moss. Carly approached it, trepidation rising as she felt Malkyn’s gaze between her shoulder blades like a firm hand urging her on. She perched on an arched root the width of Malkyn’s thick thigh. He shook his head, stepped up to her, then took hold of her ankle and pulled until she was seated between two roots with her legs spread wide and her bottom on a large lump at the base of the tree.
“Arms over your head.” Malkyn watch her lift her arms and nodded in satisfaction. “Perfect. I will bind you now.”
“What?” Carly squeaked as vines snaked up from beneath the roots and wound around her thighs above her knees. More vines bound her arms to the trunk of the tree, from her elbows to her wrists. The cool, slick skin of the living rope tightened until the bark of the tree dented her flesh. Her heart stuttered a panicked beat in her chest as she strained against the vines.
Malkyn made a shushing sound and put one hand on the trunk over her head. “You’re fine, little one. Exquisite, actually.” He ran his fingers down her cheek and she found his praise soothed her, as did his touch. “I have dreamed of having you just like this for years. And I’m not the only one.”
By Margie Church
To celebrate the release of my newest book, and in keeping with my topic: unexpectedly sexual, I offer
Close your eyes and take a deep breath. Grass and wildflowers fill the air with their sweet scents. Picture
yourself sitting on a grassy bank next to a stream. You watch the water weaving its way around large
rocks peppering its path. A happy gurgle comes from the river as it defies the stones and then dashes
on. The sun is warm. The quiet trickles and swishes of the water lull you into a peaceful, relaxing state.
Now, you're sitting on the shore of a large lake. There are not many people around. A breeze cools your
skin on this warm day. Waves tumble to shore, one after another, moving faster than the playful stream,
but in an uneven rhythm. You clutch your knees and rest your chin atop them. A wave reaches your toes
and gives them a cool lick before retreating to the depths. You wiggle your feet in the sopping wet sand,
appreciating its silky texture. Digging deeper down, your toes become cold. A wave covers your foot and
nearly reaches your bottom. Sunlight glints on the water in chaotic patterns as though winking at you
before running away. Closing your eyes, you raise your face to the sun and don't care whether the next
wave gets you soaking wet. A sea bird cries above your head. The next gust of wind brings the water to
you. You flinch, but don't move away when your bottom becomes soaked.
You've moved to the ocean. The offshore breeze is brisk, making your skin pebble even though the day
is quite warm. Waves crash into each other in an even tempo eliciting an extended, crunching sound.
The white-capped rollers draw your eyes, your ears to them. Rising and falling, one after another, they
undulate against the shore. They're ceaseless, breathless, unrelenting. The air's salty humidity is ocean-
scented. You breathe deeply, taking in the ocean's rich essence. Each crackling wave is the relentless
stroke of Neptune on your body.
EXCERPT: Nopeming Shores, by Margie Church with J. Andrew Lockhart. A sensual paranormal (ghost)
In his spirit state, Gabe heard and watched the entire scene between his wife and Jana. He stood behind
Lily while she said goodbye to Jana. He walked out of the building with Lily to the car. The wind caught a
wisp of her hair, and he wished he could tuck it behind her ear. He used to love stroking Lily's soft, wavy
Not yet. She wasn't ready to know he was close by, trying to help her cope. Hell, he was trying to cope,
too. God had given Gabe a chance to help Lily, and himself, but it was all in the timing. Gabe wouldn't
get long. The Shepherd of Souls had been very clear about that.
Lily drove out of the parking lot, but instead of taking her usual direct route to the base exits, she drove
through the grounds.
In his spirit form, Gabe followed her.
She slowed down near one of the park benches.
We met there. Gabe recalled seeing Lily with her brown-bag lunch when he'd gone jogging on the
historic base. She'd caught his eye immediately. Her long, graceful limbs and full lips captivated him.
When she smiled, the sun seemed to dim. Her charming demeanor wiped out all his defenses.
She'd shaded her eyes to speak to him. "I've never seen you before."
"I was in Seattle for some training, but I'm stationed here. Are you visiting your husband?"
She'd giggled this wonderful, heart-warming sound, and her face turned the loveliest shade of pink.
Gabe knew in that moment, he was pretty much a goner.
"No, I'm not married. I started working at the commissary last week."
"Well, if you have lunch in the park, I'll be seeing you. I jog through here almost every day."
Gabe didn't usually take that route, but he was darn glad he had that day, and every day after. Lily had
waited for him, sometimes bringing along an extra bottle of water or a piece of fruit for him. They'd talk
for a little while, then he'd finish his run, although his mind was never on physical fitness after he saw
Now Gabe sat on that same bench, remembering the delight in her eyes when he'd asked her to dinner
the first time. They'd been almost inseparable after that date. They thought they'd have a lifetime
He turned toward her car and saw the strain on her face.
He watched her shoulders rise and fall in a deep sigh before she drove away from the curb.
Gabe didn't get off the bench and follow her. Being dead wasn't exactly halos and fluffy clouds for him.
CONTEST: Tell me about something that turned unexpectedly sexual and you could win a copy of
Buy link: https://www.nobleromance.com/Books/335/Nopeming-Shores
Margie's page on Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=ntt_athr_dp_sr_1?_encoding=UTF8&search-
Margie's website and blog: www.RomanceWithSASS.com
By Ranae Rose
I love a good hero and a good heroine. Who doesn’t? Most readers also have specific character traits they love to hate, and I’m no exception. Today I’m talking about the sort of heroes and heroines that make me wish I should jump into the story and slap some sense right into them! If you read romance, you probably know exactly what I’m talking about. Feel free to use the comments section to tell me what sorts of heroes and heroines drive you crazy.
The offending heroes:
The Cheater: Maybe he’s a playboy, or maybe it’s a one-time thing. I don’t care either way – I can’t stand an unfaithful hero. Once he’s found his true love, he’d better not stray. I’m more than willing to close the book on a hero who can’t keep it in his pants when he’s with anyone other than his partner (or hey, maybe even partners if the story is like that).
The Macho-Bot 2000: This guy has no feelings north of his belt. When he’s not ogling the heroine’s boobs, he’s probably thinking up new ways to replace the blood in his veins with extra testosterone. His lack of emotion makes him a bore to read about.
The Clueless One: He’s not sure what he wants, other than instant gratification. He may be a commitment-phobe whose fear of settling down endangers his relationship with his partner. He’s the opposite of the sort of hero I really love – the guy who knows exactly what he wants, sticks by his partner and does anything necessary to make it work. The clueless one will probably come around eventually, but by then I usually think he’s an ass for being so reluctant to act on his true feelings.
The offending heroines:
The Ball-Buster: This girl never gives the hero a freakin’ break. She’s constantly busting his balls, giving him a hard time and generally making it clear that she hates him. Of course he’s really into her and she secretly has the hots for him, but God forbid she let the relationship take its natural course. These bitchy heroines are infuriating and tiresome to read about. I usually end up feeling sorry for the hero and wishing the heroine would just fall off a cliff so he could find someone more deserving of his affection.
The Boyfriend-Stealer: Fortunately I haven’t come across too many of these nasty heroines, but they are out there: the women who just can’t seem to resist finding a taken man and then proceeding to seduce him away from the partner he’s already got. They always justify it to themselves somehow, but they’ll have a hard time getting this reader on board. It’s not easy for me to like a character that goes around stealing somebody else’s man.
The Material Girl: She spends half the book buying things, namely to expand her designer wardrobe. A third world country could probably be fed off the amount she drops on clothing. I just can’t relate, and reading about it gets old quick.
What about you? What traits can’t you stand in a hero or heroine?
Tiffany isn’t the type to waste time daydreaming about men, but when a hot stranger smoking – in more ways than one – on the steps of the bank she works at takes her breath away, she can’t help it. He catches her attention as she exits the building on her way to lunch break, and she leaves fantasizing about helping the bank’s newest customer-to-be with much more than just his finances. When he finally approaches the counter, it’s not to open a new account, but to demand that Tiffany fill a pillowcase to the brim with cash – at gunpoint. The gorgeous gunman takes Tiffany on the run as his hostage, and her fear can't stand up to her attraction. When he offers to let her return to safety unharmed she realizes that there are many things she wants to do to him, but that walking away isn't one of them.
"A totally gripping, sexy thrillride...the perfect combination of adventure and eroticism." - Lucy Felthouse
Excerpt from Taken Hostage:
After exiting the Mustang himself, he walked around the front and opened Tiffany’s door for her. She was overcome by a sensation of déjà vu – she’d imagined him doing the same thing in her fantasy. Now, in their current situation, it seemed absurd.
She stood uselessly as he tossed the pillowcase full of cash into the Saturn’s trunk and covered it up with the blankets and emergency roadside kit that were already stashed there. The ordinariness of her captor’s car and the contents of its trunk were intriguing. Who was this man, who apparently robbed banks after smoking on their steps and flirting with their tellers for half an hour? It wasn’t as if he could expect any of the plentiful witnesses to forget his face – it was only slightly too rugged to look like it belonged on the cover of GQ, or on a billboard in the city.
What in the world was he planning to do next?
Tiffany eyed the nearby woods speculatively. They were in the middle of the New York wilderness, half an hour from town. She had nowhere to run, and there was probably no one to hear her scream if she tried and he caught her. She dared a glance at her captor, who’d tucked the gun into the front waistband of his jeans. The bulge of the barrel beneath the denim reminded her of the similar protuberance she’d felt there when he’d pinned her against the Mustang in the bank parking lot. She no longer felt horrified by the memory – a fact that sent heat flooding into her face.
Once he’d finished packing the Saturn he opened the passenger door. ‘Ladies first,’ he murmured in a tone she’d heard already in her fantasy.
She sank into the passenger seat gladly, for her knees had begun to feel as if they might give out. ‘Where are we going?’ she asked as he turned his own set of keys in the ignition.
‘Far away,’ was all the reply he gave her.
She couldn’t stop asking questions. Now that her fear was beginning to ebb, a strange curiosity seemed to be replacing it. ‘If this isn’t your house, why’d we come here?’
‘Because the owner leaves every morning for work at 7:15 and doesn’t come home until at least 5:45 in the evening. So it should be at least that long before they discover the abandoned Mustang and figure out that I’m driving something else. We’ll be long gone by then.’
Tiffany noted his use of the word ‘we’ with a sudden rush of half-amazed, half-frightened anticipation. ‘You had this all planned out?’
‘Of course.’ He pulled the Saturn back out onto the road. ‘What’d you think, that I’m just some idiot who decided to rob a bank on the spur of the moment?’ He grinned at her, and she had to fight the sudden urge to grin back.
She shrugged instead.
He reached down, pulled out a hat from the small compartment on the driver’s side door and pushed it down on top of his head, hiding his hair.
‘Shouldn’t you make me lay down in the back seat or something?’ Tiffany asked. That was how the bad guys always did it on the crime dramas she liked to watch on TV.
He looked away from the road for a moment, turning the full force of his gaze upon her. His eyes were intense, but one corner of his mouth was pulled up in an amused half-smile. ‘Do you really want me to?’ He spoke in the same husky voice that’d starred in her pre-abduction fantasy.
She dropped her gaze, too abashed to maintain eye contact. What she saw when she looked down only deepened her embarrassment – though her kidnapper had removed the gun from his waistband, the fabric of his jeans was just as strained quite near where it had been.
Copyright © Ranae Rose, 2011
Taken Hostage is available from major e-book retailers, including:
Amazon – http://www.amazon.com/Taken-Hostage-ebook/dp/B005E4W0UK/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1317059716&sr=8-1
Barnes & Noble – http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/taken-hostage-ranae-rose/1104729022?ean=2940011432422&itm=3&usri=ranae%2brose
All Romance – http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-takenhostage-581905-144.html
Ranae Rose is a multi-published author of red-hot romance. Believing that true love knows no bounds, she’s not one to confine herself or her characters to a single genre. She enjoys writing contemporary, historical and paranormal romances. Living on the US East Coast, she’s also an avid reader and animal-lover. When she’s not writing she can usually be found in the saddle or with a good book. You can find out more about Ranae and her books and get free reads at: www.ranaerose.com
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