Happy New Year!
I hope everyone had a wonderful holiday. I know I did. I got some wonderful feedback on my sexy short Cuck’d for Christmas and, to my blissful surprise, got a good deal of writing done for various projects I have in the mix. While 2016 might have been a shit storm, it was a productive year for writing.
Now it’s back to the drawing (writing?) board.
I’ve picked up my Z Saga again, the book series that kicked off my self-publishing debut. Z is a group of POV erotic short stories set against the backdrop of a zombie apocalypse. I like writing about sex and I love zombies, so it sounded like a win-win. And while there are a thousand different stories raging through my brain, Z truly has my heart. Now, almost a year after releasing book 2 in the series, I’m back to writing on book 3.
Each story is written to stand alone, though each one play in to the larger narrative. Z follows a ragtag group searching for haven in a fort somewhere in central Indiana. The characters are as diverse as the zombies staggering after them, and the endings will leave you chomping at the bit for more. You can find Book 1 (Jacobi’s Story) here, and Book 2 (Camille’s Story) here.
But don’t take my word for it. Here is a little tantalizing teaser from Book 2 to tide you over. Feel free to rate and write a review on Amazon. Or just drop me a comment on here. I would love to hear from you.
Until next month…
Sleep rarely came easy.
I lay there on a pallet of blankets beside Nadine on the storeroom floor, listening to her soft, rhythmic breathing and wondering how she was able to sleep so soundly after the things we’d seen these past few years. It wasn’t long before I found myself thinking about Jacobi again. Jacobi always slept like a baby. Or so he liked to brag. Jacobi Jameson was a lot of things—pompous and arrogant, a self proclaimed sex addict. Humble didn’t make the list.
I tried to push him from my mind.
He’s fine, I told myself, not for the first time since leaving him alone to fight his way out of the barn.
I remembered the way he came crashing to our rescue in Chicago, all attitude and brawn and swinging that damn pickaxe of his. The bastard always did think he was God’s gift to the universe. Just happened that day he was.
Jacobi never noticed me as he led our little group across his makeshift system of planks, boards, and ladders he’d used to interconnect a few buildings via the rooftops. The rooftops! By then it had been more than a year since he left me, back when all of this shit started. He was scruffier than before, just as big and built as I remembered. By the time he noticed me in my blood-stained clothes and baseball cap that hid my red hair, the greeting was every bit as cold as I imagined.
“Cunt,” he bit.
“Asshole,” I fired back.
That night we fucked as if we hadn’t missed a beat. It was the kind of sex fueled by years of anger and raw emotion and sexual need. Jacobi pulled my hair, slapped my ass until I was on fire, squeezed my tits until I thought they might burst in his big, calloused hands. All while his sex railed between my legs, filling me with an exquisite heat I hadn’t felt for too long.
I could almost feel him now. So hard, so rough…with a steely tenderness I had never found from another man, including Damon.
A new heat ignited between my thighs. I let my hand glide over the flat of my belly, beneath the waistband of my jeans, until I found that sensitive jumble of nerves Damon had used to torture me with earlier. God, I was wet. Moisture gathered in the cleft of my pussy as I parted my lips, stroking my clit and sending an electric current humming through my veins—stoking the fire in my belly to a roaring inferno. My heartbeat quickened with my breath. My legs parted with need. I wanted to come…needed it…again…
I sensed Nadine shift on the floor beside me. When I looked up, she was watching me through the darkness, head propped on her fist and smiling her plastic smile. My hand jerked out of my jeans. It was so dark in the storeroom, maybe she didn’t see.
“I…thought you were asleep.”
“Sorry,” whispered Nadine. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“You weren’t interrupting,” I said, probably way too fast. “I was just about to get up for my watch.”
Some of the heat left my pussy and filled my face. At least in the darkness Nadine couldn’t see me blush. I can’t believe Nadine of all people had just caught me masturbating. How fucking humiliating!
Nadine lifted herself onto an elbow, the sheet covering her slipping down her lithe little body to expose the petite mounds of her breasts. Our eyes met in one hungry moment, a sort of understood silence passing between us. She reached for my hand with a warm, lover’s touch, bring my fingers to her lips and giving each digit a strange little kiss that made butterflies leap to life in my belly.
“Please, Cam, don’t let me stop you,” Nadine said. Her voice, whispered in the storeroom, sounded sad. “We get so few pleasures these days. Please don’t let me stop you from feeling good in a world that is so bad.”
I found myself lying there beside her, Nadine guiding my hand back into my jeans…slowly…as if seeking consent with every inch I relented, edging my fingers closer and closer to the quiet hunger waiting between my legs. A soft moan escaped my lips when I realized how aroused I was, how fucking wet I’d gotten from letting another woman manipulate me like this.
My breath hitched when I felt Nadine’s hand close gently over mine through the layer of my jeans, guiding my fingers into my pussy like the cock I so desperately needed. My mouth opened in a silent scream of pleasure, my hips rocking off the floor as Nadine began thrusting the palm of her hand gently against my crotch, fucking me with my own fingers. Through a glaze of sweat I wondered if she sensed me come.
Before I could say more, her lips closed over mine, swallowing whatever I was going to say next.
And then we were kissing.
Until that moment I had never kissed another woman—had never even thought about it. Nadine was gentler than Jacobi. Softer than Damon. I could only lay there, her breasts heavy against me, kissing her back. Our hands moved in tandem, my hips thrusting greedily as she continued to fuck me, fueled as much by the new climax rising in my groin as Nadine’s eager tongue in my mouth.
I tumbled over the edge so completely I thought the moan rising in my throat might meet my lips. My thighs snapped shut as the orgasm pounded through me, my free hand sandwiching Nadine’s over my jeans as I came for her again. I collapsed in a breathless afterglow on the floor beside her, Nadine’s head resting on my shoulder. She was watching me again, chewing her bottom lip like a flirting school girl.
I laughed. “What?”
“See now,” she grinned. “Don’t you feel better?”
I hated to admit it, but I did.
“Thanks,” I whispered, kissing her forehead.
When I looked up, Damon was standing in the door, silent and dark as the shadows that hid him. I scooted away from Nadine, equal parts startled and mortified. If Damon had seen us, he gave no sign of it.
“Your watch, Camille,” was all he said before climbing into the cot to sleep. Like an obedient lapdog, Nadine climbed in with him.