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VAMPIRE EROTIC THRILLER
Jaq opened his eyes to a man holding a stake to his heart. Grabbing the shaft, he shoved it away from his body, thankful that vampires no longer slept in coffins. If he had been sleeping in a coffin, the stake would have bounded off the hardwood sides and into his body.
Jaq sprung from the bed before his assailant could recover. A sound from behind told Jaq there was someone else in the room. He turned and grabbed the woman’s arm flinging her forward into a wall so he could keep an eye on them both.
Jaq wasn’t surprised when the woman grabbed a cross from her pocket. Stepping forward, he swatted it from her hand and slapped her across the face. “Idiot,” he said before dissipating into the shadows and leaving his would-be killers alone in the eighteenth-century Victorian mansion. His Indianapolis haven was no longer safe. It was fine. He had a room permanently booked at the Terre Haute House in Terra Haute, Indiana.
Shadow got the call to come to the front desk four hours into her shift – midnight. She had another two hours before her shift ended. So far, the calls to the front desk were few and far between – toilet paper, fresh towels, condoms for the girls working the floors. They were busy tonight, but Shadow wasn’t.
“Shad, the new guy on the top floor wants you.” Kristy said.
“No,” Shadow said. “I told you no when he first walked in last month. You knocked. You take him.” Kristy was nuts in Shadow’s opinion. She’d fuck anything for the right price. So it wasn’t a surprise that she had knocked on Mr. Creepy’s door, looking for a trick. He’d reserved the room under the name Jacques Dark. Shadow was positive it was fake, but didn’t question it. It wasn’t her place to validate the guests. Plus, he was already out of place in Terre Haute - long dark hair, broad shoulders, deep black eyes, and pale skin. He didn’t fit. Shadow figured he was from New York or LA. The man had called once and asked for another bedspread. Shadow had obliged by handing it to Frank, the custodian.
“You should really do it,” Kristy said.
“Why?” Shadow asked.
“Extra money, Shad. I know you need it,” she said.
“Not him. Plus there’s no one to watch the front desk,” Shadow said.
“Jill said she’d do it. They’re wearing her out tonight.” Kristy laughed.
Shadow groaned. “Where is she?” Just then the elevator door dinged and opened. “Nevermind. Found her.” Shadow hung up the phone.
“You can’t turn this down.” Jill said as she approached the desk.
“I know I can’t turn it down. The car’s broke again, and walking late at night isn’t my thing.” Shadow said.
“So get moving. He’s waiting.”
Shadow huffed as she walked from behind the desk and took the elevator to the top floor. Mr. Creepy had to have the best room in the house – the Presidential suite. No ego there. She leaned against the back of the elevator and watched the numbers simultaneously light up and ding. The elevator was slow. There was no denying it. Then again, the girls liked to perform quickies between floors. Shadow reflexively stepped away from the wall. Luckily, this was her floor.
She stepped out of the elevator and gasped. “Kandis! Not in the hallway.” Shadow said as she approached Kandis and the John she was servicing.
“Oh come on.” Her voice was half a pant.
“Jacob will have a fit. Go to a room.” Shadow said.
“His wife is in the room.”
“I don’t care if the pope is in his room, not in the damned hallway.” Shadow said. She waited while the duo got onto the elevator before proceeding to Creepy’s door.
She paused. This really wasn’t a good idea. What if he was a mass murderer like Jack the Ripper? She wouldn’t have to worry about car repairs.
Shadow laughed at her own morbid thoughts before silencing herself and knocking on the door. Maybe he wouldn’t answer. No such luck. Two seconds later, the door opened revealing Mr. Creepy in his black cloaked greatness.
“Welcome.” He said and motioned her inside.
The extra bedspread had been placed across the room’s largest window. Anyone else might have mistaken it for a heavy curtain, but Shadow knew the pattern.
“Not up for a view?” she asked.
“Not tonight.” Jaq said and motioned for her to sit.
Shadow sat down in the nearest chair and watched him. His movements were strange. Though, she couldn’t place the oddity. He wasn’t broken anywhere that she could see. There was no lurch in his step. Both arms appeared healthy from beneath his suit and cloak.
Jaq closed and locked the door. “Do you know why I asked for you?”
“Sex.” She assumed anyway. Really, he could have wanted anything from sex to a quiet conversation to a bedtime story. None of the scenarios were unfamiliar to her.
“Are you comfortable with that?” Jaq asked.
“There is a price.” Shadow said.
“Five hundred a night.” Jaq said.
“All night?” Shadow asked.
“All night any night I want you.” He said.
“Are you serious?”
“Completely,” he said.
Jaq stood in front of her. Shadow figured he was at least six feet tall if not taller. He towered over her.
“You can pick it up off the dresser each morning, but please do not wake me and do not open any curtains.” Jaq said.
Those weren’t the strangest requests Shadow had ever heard. In fact, they were rather mild. “Deal,” she said with her eyes firmly planted on his chest then his shoulders. Anywhere but his eyes.
Jaq leaned forward and lifted her chin. “Do they tell you not to look at your clients?”
She was timid for her industry, but Jaq liked it. That was why he had chosen her and none of the others. They were too bold. Likely they’d ask him if he wanted them to perform vile acts on his genitalia. Of course, he did not.
“They tell us to be respectful,” Shadow said.
Jaq kissed her gently – first, her forehead, then her eyes, nose, and finally mouth. All the while pulling her closer until he lifted her from the chair and carried her to the bed. “I don’t bite unless asked.” Jaq had no intention of hurting her. He wanted to relax next to a warm body. His childe was a different story. Jaq would have to make sure he never saw her.
Shadow slid her arms under his cloak and wasn’t surprised to learn he was well muscled. He looked strong and had picked her up with little effort. She slid her hands down his back, along his sides, and finally up his chest. She wanted to know what she was getting into. Though, his kisses told her she might enjoy it.
Jaq pulled the straps of her dress down revealing her small yet well-shaped breasts. He wasn’t disappointed as he procured one nipple with his mouth. He sucked on each point alternatively until they hardened, and she moaned. Jaq was quite sure the sound was involuntary as he hadn’t ever met a prostitute that voluntarily enjoyed payment sex. However, he wanted her to enjoy this. It did him no good to offer her money only for her to refuse because of pain or displeasure. Jaq wanted her knocking on his door for more.
Shadow lowered her hands to his belt and easily slid the tongue though the buckle. It didn’t take her long to free his growing erection, and she slid her hand along the shaft, paying special attention to the head. Her eyes widened when she realized the head was swelling out of his foreskin. He was uncut! This was a first.
Jaq sucked on her lower lip, careful not to cut her with his extended fangs. He knew she was excited. A gently tug on his penis told him she wanted to be penetrated. He was, however, very conscious of his size in comparison to her tiny body. Even his Bonded, Adrienne, had issues when it came to sex with him. Perhaps, this was his reason for turning to prostitutes. They couldn’t complain, and he often fed from them afterword, sometimes killing them, sometimes not.
He pressed the head of his sex against her opening, allowing her hand to guide him. She was wet. He could feel her warmth and the resulting fluid as he pushed for entrance.
Shadow stilled when she felt the beginnings of penetration. First the head. It was so slow. She looked up at Jaq only to receive a lustful kiss. Then the shaft. He was inching his way inside. It did nothing to dim her anticipation. She shifted her hips into a more comfortable position and opened her legs wider. She was rewarded with a faster thrust. He was almost entirely inside!
“Pain?” Jaq asked.
“More.” She was almost panting.
Jaq slipped his hands beneath her butt and tilter her hips. The last three inches were always the most difficult. Most females simply didn’t have the length he needed even if they could accommodate the girth. Shadow seemed undaunted by both which only furthered his excitement.
Shadow slid her hands along his back. None of the other patrons had ever gone this slow. It was refreshing, yet odd. Most of them simply hiked up her skirt and inserted themselves after donning a condom. Condom! He wasn’t wearing one. Shadow squirmed and tensed.
Jaq stopped mid thrust and looked down at her.
He blinked. “Condom?”
“You need one,” Shadow said.
Jaq blinked again. He almost asked why before it dawned on him. He kissed her gently. “You can’t catch anything from me not even pregnancy.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive. It’s impossible.” He kissed her again to reassure her. “In fact, if you catch anything from me, I’ll pay for everything.”
“Is that a deal?” Shadow asked.
“Yes, but you must promise that our agreement is exclusive. No others until I check out of this room.”
“At 500 a night?” she asked.
“600 for exclusivity.” Jaq said as he slowly finished burying himself inside her.
Jaq kissed her passionately, intertwining his tongue with hers. He could feel her hips meeting his slow thrusts and began to piston. He was close, and she was getting tighter.
Shadow gripped his back, blunt nails digging into the fabric of his cloak. She could feel everything. He was touching every part of her, filling her, forcing her to give him every inch of available space. Her moans were becoming more frequent. “It’s big…”
“And getting bigger.” He ached. The throb was starting, and Jaq heard his own moan as they connected solidly on each thrust. He was nearing the edge and quickened his pace. “It’s close.”
Shadow screamed for more, for him to take her harder. The tingling sensations were coming. Her thighs tensed, toes curled as she spasmed violently beneath him, chest heaving.
Jaq grunted, moaned, and pushed their hips close, sheathing himself completely inside her. What passed for his sexual fluid burst from his cock, and he pushed with each spurt. It went on for more than a minute. “Just a little more.” One final grunt, and he slid his hands under her body, cradling her in his relief
Shadow inhaled deeply. Had she known it was going to be this good, she would have done it for free.
Jaq rolled off her and tugged her against his body out of habit. She wasn’t going anywhere tonight.
Shadow nuzzled her head against his side. “Every night?”
“More nights than not.” Jaq said as he closed his eyes. The sun was upon them.
He knew she’d never deny him. It was in her body language. He doubted she’d ever want anyone else either. It was exactly as Jaq wanted.
Several hours later, Shadow shifted and opened her eyes. She was still in the hotel room laying next to Jaq. She stretched. She couldn’t stay here all day. Jaq said he didn’t want woken. A glance at the clock told her it was nine in the morning She rubbed her eyes and inhaled.
Slowly, She slipped from the bed, dressed and collected the 600 dollars. Luckily, she knew a back way out of the hotel. She didn’t need the day staff knowing she had stayed the night. To further matters, she didn’t know what to do with the money. She had never made 600 in one night. She certainly couldn’t take it to the bank.
By the time she arrived home, she had a solution. Shadow placed the money in a brown paper bag and hid it inside her bedroom closet. There was a small gap between the shelf and the wall. It had proved useless until now. Now, she would hide all the money Jaq gave her minus the car repairs bills until she needed it.
Jaq took a deep breath and opened his eyes. It was night. A quick glance to the dresser showed no money. Shadow had woken at some point during the day, taken the money and left. He would see her tonight. Though, he had a few things to do before spending time with her. First and foremost on his mental list was a house. There was a two story colonial with a wrap around porch on Church street. It looked big enough, but he needed to see it for himself.
After showering and dressing in his customary black suit and cloak, he headed downstairs. His Rolyes Royce Silver limousine was waiting for him by the lobby doors.
“Where to?” His driver asked.
“Church street. I want to take a look at that house you found yesterday.” Jaq said.
No sooner had the luxurious black limousine turned the corner when Jaq saw the house. “Stop here.” He didn’t want to get too close. There was no telling who actually owned it or if they were at home. Not to mention, any nosy neighbors.
There was no front yard to speak of. That did not bode well with Jaq. There was no place to build a wall. The tubed flier listed the property as having 12 bedrooms and eight bathrooms, two kitchens, and multiple fireplaces. Jaq knew he couldn’t view it tonight. He’d have to find someone to view it for him during the day. It was an issue, but not one he was unaccustomed to. Perhaps, he’d ask Shadow. The sooner he decided on a house, the sooner he could contact the rest of his family.
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This is a sample chapter for a novel I plan to finish sometime in 2019 or early 2020. It's currently still titled with its theme and not an actual title. It's probably going to be another series, or maybe some prepart of Tiny Bitey.
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From what I can tell, this is a mosiac essay. Do I remeber what that is? Nope. Did I write it for a master's level English class about10 years ago? Yep. is it any good? Hell if I know. I can't even remember what a mosiac is...
Scott toilet paper. It’s Softness done right according to the package. Twenty four rolls equals 48 regular rolls. Those 24 rolls are divided into packages of four and wrapped it plastic. Then they are wrapped in another layer of plastic. It’s a waste. There’s no reason for those rolls of toilet paper to be double wrapped. The toilet paper rolls have been over packaged. They are just another reason why we have a 1000 mile island of plastic 1000 miles off the coast of California.
One broken down dark brown dress shoe rests next to a pile of black cloth. I’m sure the pile of cloth is a shirt. I probably wore it to the gym earlier. The other broken down shoe resides on the other side of the shirt. They were wonderful shoes when I first bought them. New. Shiny. Comfortable. They’re still comfortable, but the heel is worn down. There’s a crack above the toes. They no longer fall into the “gently used” category. They are well used and in need of replacement. I’d like to replace them, but they don’t make those shoes anymore. So I keep them and wear them.
On top of the overstuffed dark red couch pillow sits two pairs of black underwear, a pair of green underwear. I think they used to be grey. They got in a battle with a bottle of bleach and lost. There’s another black t-shirt, a white one, a black sock, a black hand towel, and a grey t-shirt. They are remnants of a washed and dried load of laundry that I have yet to fold and put away. The jeans lay separate from the pile yet still near the pillow are part of the same load – size 13. I need to go to the gym more often.
A 24oz Diet Dr. Pepper sits on a cheap Wal-Mart tray table. It’s an annoying pale shade of wood. I would have gotten black, but thy don’t sell black tray tables. Dr. Pepper was once a cure for stomach ailments. A small four by three hardcover blank notebook sits on the other side of the table. Under that, Lee Child’s “The Hard Way”. It’s an annoying book. I’ve tried to read it twice. I got farther the second time, but it’s still a terrible book. The first 10 pages are a circular argument between Reacher and an unknown man. I hate circular arguments and false bravado. It’s not believable. The author failed to pull me into Jack Reacher’s world.
Next to that stack of books resides Cover Girls’ Aqua CG Smoother ivory foundation. It’s makeup I only wear for job interviews. I hate having slime covering every inch of my face. It smudges, rubs off on Kleenex, but it doesn’t completely come off. Residue is still left behind even after a good soap and water face scrubbing. It requires special wipes to remove completely.
Red lace hangs down from four pillars. The design is intricate with roses and leaves, scalloped edges that hang to the floor. It’s 80 inches by 57 inches. I know because I measured it three times to ensure the size of the custom canopy. The Greek style columns are bear huggable. The headboard is solid wood. It weighs 80 pounds. The mattress is extra thick. It has a pillow top. The entire bed is a Queen. It could easily fit three of me. A black and red comforter is piled is the center. Beyond it, two pillows covered with black pillowcases. The décor and style could be used for ritualistic or satanic sex in a movie or for a scene in one of my own stories, but for now, I think I’ll just sleep in my semi-gothic bedroom buried under a pile of comforters and pillows.
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This is another tidbit that was probably written between 1995 and 1998. While I would consider this to be pure and utter crap compared to what I write today, sometimes we need to understand the developmental process. The overall theme is something I still use today. Make it dark. Make it disturbing. This qualifies as both. But this is also quantifiably terrible, and it also qualifies as poetry, which I wouldn't write today. In my writing process, especially when I was younger, I wrote poetry to make sense of my own thoughts. These types of things were written when I couldn't string two words together. I do not read or write poetry today because if I wrote it due to being unable to write..... well, uhhh . . yeah. That's the long and short.
Understanding the Darkness
Can you understand anything, my dark companion
Do you love?
Do you hate?
Do you feel for me what I feel for you?
Can you cry?
My sadness blinks in the darkness
What I have, my friends, isn’t what I thought
And if you walk with me, here, in the darkness
Do not forget the light.
Because I thought I was lonely when god had forsaken me,
But I found myself screaming blood into the night when the devil had forsaken me.
Now I know that true loneliness is the understanding that I can never go back.
I understand the Darkness
Do you understand me.
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I think I wrote this in 1995 or 1996. I am fairly certain this was an English assignment in high school. I'm also pretty sure I got an "A". Imagine turning this in today. You or your kid would probably be shoved off to the nearest psychologist. However, I am not posting this because I think it's good. I'm posting this to let you know that we all start somewhere.
This is unedited and uncorrected from the text that was in the notebook, which means it's not perfect (in fact upon skimming this, it has developmental errors out the ass), and not the stories I churn out today, but you as you can see, I was fucked in the head even back then.
Just wanna be your fucked-up author!
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Over the hills and through the woods to grandmother’s house... Okay, not really, Officer Locke thought. He shined his flashlight on a pair of dingy wader boots. The man had been dead less than 24 hours. No blood. No weapon. No trauma. Just dead.
“What do you think?” Officer Smith asked as the CSI’s roped off the area.
“It’s fucked.” Locke said.
“Man looks asleep.”
“Yeah. For eternity. God rest his soul.” Locke gazed at the starless sky.
“Coroner’s on the way.” Smith said.
“Dr. Black?” Locke asked.