It also features a woman being transformed into a succubus. For adults only! Feeling increasingly confused, Janine soldiered on by finally introducing herself. And a surprise, we didn't even know the house had been sold. She quickly did so, blushing once more, but her neighbor didn't seem to notice. Read more Read less. Chance to win daily prizes. Get ready for Prime Day with the Amazon App. No purchase necessary. Get started. Kindle Cloud Reader Read instantly in your browser.
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Smashwords – Suburban Succubus 2 (Supernatural Erotica) - A book by Jane Mesmeri - page 1
Suburban Succubus 2 Supernatural Erotica. Jane Mesmeri. Suburban Succubus 3. Amanda Clover. Neil Bimbeau. Not Enabled. Share your thoughts with other customers. Write a customer review. Showing of 4 reviews. Top Reviews Most recent Top Reviews. There was a problem filtering reviews right now.
Please try again later. Format: Kindle Edition Verified Purchase. Janine has everything. A loving husband and a teenage step daughter that is on her way to college. It seems Janine is a normal housewife with a normal family. But things take a strange turn when a new neighbor across the street moves in named, Katrina. Katrina is pretty, sexy, and every man's dream. But Janine pass it off as if she was just blessed with good looks. Suddenly Janine wants to come over and welcome their new guest into the neighborhood.
Instead she gets a rude awakening when she catches Katrina in sexual positions with other people from the neighborhood. What makes matters worse is that Janine is having strange sexual dreams and wakes up very sexual. Who is Katrina and why is she servicing the people in the neighborhood. And what are these dreams Janine keeps having and is it because of Katrina? I thought this story was steaming. I like the part where Janine catches Katrina doing sexual things with the neighbors and I like the ending.
You will be surprise. A definite read. A very hot read, though after finishing it, kinda would like more to read as to seeing how her succubus side develops and such. One person found this helpful. The story was good even if much to short. Of course I would have liked it to last as long as 2 books.
I enjoyed this story greatly. Jessica: Another case of leaving me laughing out loud. Those kinds of things always grab my attention. And like all of those I choose as winners, runners-up, or honorable mentions, I love this voice. Kim: I love how this excerpt paints a picture. This was just plain fun to read. No e-mailed entries will be considered. Include your title and the first words of your book. Stop wherever the previous sentence ends, but do not exceed words. The same work cannot be entered in more than one genre. We will, however, accept multiple works from the same author in the same or different categories.
We will, however, discuss what we liked about each winning word entry on the blog, and will pull out a few honorable mentions to highlight other excerpts that came close and why. Will stood in the doorway, soiled hands clenched by his sides, eyes blazing. He crossed the bedroom in seconds. Hot-faced and mortified, Rosamund jumped up from the bed and hurriedly pressed the shocking photographs at him, but before she could run he snatched the collar of her dress, jerking her back against him.
This close he smelled of earth and sweat. The digital display reads ten forty-two, ten forty-three. The side of my face is pressed into the pillow, the top of my head bumps against the headboard. Here it comes finally. He rolls off and breathes out a long slow breath, air escaping from a balloon. I sigh too, with relief. Stiffly I turn over onto my back. Carl rubs my arm affectionately—the most-tender part of our lovemaking. Susan Pargeter winced as the needle sank into her skin, then again when it poked out again an inch further along.
It was a shallow wound: she could see the ridge of metal under the flesh, the last in a long line of parallel needles down the top of both breasts from her collarbones to her areolas. His fingers opened another sterile packet and slipped another needle through, perfectly parallel with the rest. Sweaty bodies gyrated to the heavy electric beat, all crammed together in various states of ecstasy. This was the only shifter bar in the city. And the place positively reeked of sex—the heady musk of arousal charged the room—with the moon heat coursing through them.
Shifters moved and pressed slick against each other, hot bodies heaving in passion. So now she only targeted women who were clearly drunk off their asses. With a start, Callie realized the bartender was speaking to her. It always took a few moments to lose that time-out-of-joint feeling. With that thought, Roland Banks stoked the fire, tasted his vodka and tonic, and recalled some of the women he had dated between his first and second marriages—and those he had dated or just slept with since his second divorce. Overall, his numbers were good, but they could be better.
Witches hear as much in town as they scrye in a glass, and whispers were thick of the brewing war against the Northlands. She had seen him, in her glass and in her dreams, for they were linked, although not yet joined. She could feel him in the darkwood and the castle, the crofts of her people and the distant reaches of the Northlands. Death was coming. My tired brain scans the group once more. I blink a few times to clear my vision. Can jet lag cause strange hallucinations?
Have I stumbled into the wrong house? Pulling the hood over my head, I schooled my features into what was supposed to be an icy mask. Not the most beautiful, that particular position was and would remain for Simon. But this man lying before me, most certainly made the sainted angels cry crimson tears of envious jealousy. Working with fairies was hard enough without stuff like this happening. Bad enough they walked around oozing pure sex at you all day long.
She shook the cuffs experimentally. They were fluffy, but tightly attached. Then Emma saw herself in the mirror over the brass bed she was secured to.
Apparently the munchkins from the wizard of Oz had gotten a hold of her, because her hair seemed to be in Dorothy-visiting-the-castle ringlets. Hairdressing fairies. After all, a cursed woman has needs, too. The only problem is with the bodies. This cop has been a real nuisance. I also offer my Congratulations to Shannon and Diane. Not surprised though. Both have great voices. Congrats to the winners!! I would pick up both books immediately if I read the first hundred words. Congrats, you earned it. With her lips parted, she pressed a finger to the tip of her tongue and lowered her eyes, trailing her moistened finger down her neck, along the contour of her cleavage to where a pendant nestled between her breasts.
She was betting Mr. Handsome High Roller was ripe for the picking. Bossman was getting a trial blowjob in there. And the she-male was having one heck of an audition. I could hear the slurping through the closed door. Her shoulder length black hair looked silky, like she was one of those women who gave it a hundred strokes a night. Her face, despite the worried look and dark circles, was stunning. Monsoons filled that summer, and she filled his heart. Later, during evening storms, he thought of the sudden shadows her breasts made with every flash of lightning.
Thought of how the rain would seep into her and give her its wetness, until she was fluid all around him, her skin slick with it, her cries dissolving. They moved with the same steady rhythm of the drumming of the water. And when he called her name in that last desperate delving for her innermost secrets, the thunder drowned his voice. Officer Annie Johnson gazed at her breasts barely covered by the wonder woman costume and sighed.
Annie took a deep breath, strutted onto the stage in time to the throbbing music. She scanned the line of men seated along the stage. There he was, center stage just as the past three nights. She swayed across the stage to the middle pole, swung around it and winked at her target. He picked up his longneck bottle, tipped it toward her and took a long drink. I loved the winning paranormal entry.
Congrats, Shannon. I reached for the buttons of my blouse with shaky fingers and tried to ignore Sir and Mistress, who stood watch over me. Sir had given the order.
I flinched when he flicked the ends of the flogger he held against his leather pants. The snapping, hissing sound terrified me. Excited me. If he had come for her, she would gladly accompany him. Even after all these years, his proximity sent revulsion crawling over her skin. Stifling a yawn, she watched a rivulet of water trickle down her shoulder to her naked breast, down her stomach to splash on the black leather chair where she lounged.
Allowing her towel to slip from her just showered body, she stretched. The only comfort of living alone. I moved just a hint towards him, just enough for him to know what I wanted. He slid his finger under my panties and began stroking me. I have a question, though. It seems that the entries in the first person are doing better.
Are we seeing a change in genre writing? Thank you for your answer ahead of time and for this contest. Nicci Palmetti had always been adventurous, the first willing to try something new. Least of all herself.
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For three nights now, her dreams had been filled with visions of the stranger. Not that the other dreams were anything spectacular. In one, he cleaned his kitchen; the other, unpacked boxes. Granted, the unpacking was done shirtless and his body was definitely fun to watch! But tonight? Jerking off in the shower? Abby drew a sharp breath. Men loved Synda and she loved them.
Her cheeks colored beneath a thin layer of perspiration, something Synda could not hide with her fair skin, and the smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose. Thanks for your question. Overall, I think it can be tougher to write in the first person. So when we see one that really works, it tends to stand out from the crowd.
You should always write in the POV that feels right to you. Sebastian Kincaid did not want to hear the answer. The three of them were having lunch on the patio of a lovely little bistro. Sebastian lowered his sunglasses and glanced at the other tables.
No one seemed to be paying particular attention to them. Matchbook and emergency candles in hand, I was distracted by the voices coming from the reading room as I re-entered the hallway and ran into a wall of sculpted muscle, highlighted by a clean, masculine scent. My sense of sight was useless, but the other five were on full alert. Strong hands caressed by breasts as I dropped the matchbook and candles so that I could unbutton his pants.
Nikki shook her head. She almost felt sorry for the kid in the piece of shit Honda, revving his engine, signaling he wanted to race.
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But dammit, it was fun. Did he really think his horsepower Civic could compete with her Shelby GT? Forget having one of the fastest reaction times in all the NHRA, the power of her Mustang alone would leave him sitting there wondering what happened. Tess Sheridan squirmed in her chair in the upscale Vancouver bar. Tess stared down her best friend sitting across the small table. What do you want me to do?
Send invitations to the whole bunch and stage an orgy? Zane McCade shook his gorgeous booty in time to the heavy music. The curvy blonge hanging all over him gyrated like a lap dancer desperate for a tip. The hussy could take a breather any minute, because Jacey had her own plans for Zane.
As the crisp night air spilled in through the crack that opened the inside of the vehicle up to the rest of the world, sex slithered against sex and awakened ravenous appetites. It was different, every time, which made it worth the excruciating wait. These stolen minutes were hollowed out of the night, and with them came new insight and, without doubt, pleasure. As he came, he thought he was almost whole again. Roses are red…blood red, Violets are withered and black. Sawyer Burke peeled open his eyes and glared at the ceiling of his basement apartment. Sometimes he hated New York.
On his timetable would be nice. He would have my body, and I would reclaim my soul. Catherine shoved the magazine closer. Ursula scanned the article and chuckled. Their calculations are always wrong. She flicked the handle and watched the lash sail in the air. Her stomach roiled in disgust. Throwing the whip, she sent it flying across the chamber. It slammed against the wall and fell with a dull thud. Taking over the kingdom should have filled her with a sense of purpose, but it only brought her an abyss of emptiness.
With a heavy sigh, she plumped down into the gaudy black velvet throne. Not only was her sister a deranged tyrant, her decorating skills lacked. On the morning of her scheduled execution, she lingered in the putrid cot and stretched until the shackles gouged her bare ankles. Poor dumb bastard. Meet her Maker easily? She was anything but easy. Evacuated during her seduction dance, no doubt. Would you like to come out and play?
Mac Davies grinned. Leaning across the desk, he punched the speaker button before hanging up the receiver. If he was about to be turned on, he wanted both hands free to enjoy the experience.
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Amber Morgan paced the balcony of the twentieth story penthouse suite that had been rented for her. She was supposed to kill Jordan Richards. Her spine stiffened. The dim flicker of candlelight cast strange shadows across the blood colored walls. The entire room was decorated in rich reds and purples, and the woman who lived there was just as interesting in a dark and colorful way. She was no virgin. This woman knew what she wanted in the bedroom and knew how to get it. She had a large drawer filled with sex toys, including the leather straps that now held her hands taught against the bedposts.
Lurking behind the wall, she listened as they talked without a doubt about her. Were you lucky enough to have those luscious lips wrapped around your dick? Jasmine read the sign for the third time. Glancing down at her itinerary, she groaned. That stupid travel agent chose the wrong cruise line.
A woman wearing a silver studded black leather teddy sauntered by with leash in hand. Attatched to the leash, an equally leather-clad man crawled next to her. Dragged from my fantasy, I sighed. Bleak reality replaced the beauty of my imagined Adonis.