Lust on the Wing is a new erotic anthology, just published. I already have a copy on my kindle and I'm looking forward to reading it.
Captive Mate, by Devi Ansevi
If it weren’t for bad luck with men, she’d have no luck at all. Reality will never be the same for graduate student Berry Randall. She’s just learned that shifters are real, and they want her for their mate. Can she escape her captors? Or will she find freedom in the arms of the winged gryphons?
Blood of Stone, by Jacqui Greaves
Fredegund has guarded her petrified charges for a century. With the rising of the twin moons, the Grotesques are awakening, hungry for more than food. Meanwhile, the human hordes have created the Charm, a seductress destined to destroy the balance of power between Grotesques and humans. Can Fredegund prevent the coming disaster, or will her world be changed forever?
Flights of Fantasy, by Ina Morata
Lila seeks a man who can satisfy her darkest desires. Porphyro and the virginal Madeleine are preparing to elope. Lila sets her sights on entrapping Porphyro, and sets sexy enticements to dispose of Madeleine. When her plans go awry, Lila must use her Lilitu wiles to seduce them both.
Leonora, Marked by Daemons, by Essemoh Teepee
An excerpt to tickle your fancies, from Flights of Fantasy by Ina Morata
“What is it, Alice?” Madeleine’s gaze is glued to the reflection of Alice’s fingers that deftly unlace her corset from behind and drop the garment to the floor, leaving her hand brushing against the fair fluff between Madeleine’s legs, and coming to light upon her little nub. She moans, and blushes once more. Alice keeps her hand there, moving her fingers every so often to the sound of tiny, low moans.
“I thought that, maybe, holding up the fine fabric to here—” Her hand is replaced with the finest netting, and Madeleine’s pussy throbs at the sight of the mystery between her thighs almost visible through the fabric. “Or maybe here—” Her body squirms under the expert hand that slides the netting up her torso and onto her naked breasts. Holding it there, she sees her nipples visible through it, and how they have grown darker than usual, and protrude quite clearly.
“Do you not think it a little too fine, Alice?” Her eyes close as she feels the touch of Alice’s thumbs on her hardening tips. Lost in the feeling, and the tingle that converges on her little nub, something cold and hard pressing up against her skin makes her body jolt.
“What is it you have gripped so hard in your hand, Alice? What is it you are holding around me?”
Alice stares at her, and for some reason, Madeleine shrinks a little under her eyes.
“Nothing but the dressmaker’s shears, Miss. I thought slicing the little piece in two…but it seems…maybe I am unable…”
Alice’s face breaks into a troubled frown as she lowers the shears.
“Will you excuse me, Miss? I have realised that I have forgotten my measure. I cannot ensure an accurate fit without it, can I?”
“Very well.” Madeleine’s breath is erratic, her body heaves. Still clinging to the feel of fingers floating over her body, she lets Alice leave the room. Standing there, her naked form staring back at her, she lets her own fingers tease her nipples and tantalise her clit, trying to imagine Porphyro’s fingers against her flesh. The image will not form clearly. A frustration sweeps over her, and she screws her eyes up tight. When she opens them, she squeals.
“I’m sorry, Miss. Alice has been called away elsewhere by your father. I am sent to finish you off.”
Madeleine’s first instinct is to grab something to cover herself. But there is something about the owner of the voice that captivates her, and her instinct is lost. She looks at the woman who appears as a reflection standing behind her: at her dark hair, and her dress covered in a cloak. She has the most beautiful face, ageless, although her eyes seem to hold ancient mysteries. As she lowers her cloak, Madelaine is fascinated by the dress she wears—it seems only an intertwining of laces and ribbons hold the bodice together down to her hips, the flesh of which is on display. It clings to her curves as if she has been poured into it, and is the most heart-stopping garment she has ever seen—worn by a servant whom she has never met. Could this be some mistress of her father’s? The dress trails around the woman’s feet, its draping train curling about her as if she has appeared on a sweep of the wind. On contact with eyes that pierce green in the glass, a pain accosts Madeleine, starting between her legs and ending in her chest. A couple of deep breaths and she is herself again, but blushing crimson at her state of undress.
“Why is it you wear such a—I have never seen the like of such a dress. You are a servant, are you not?”
The woman smiles. From behind her, something moves, and it takes Madeleine a moment or two to realise what she is seeing. Two stunning black wings begin to fan outwards, and the woman speaks to Madeleine’s reflection.
“Oh yes, Miss. I’m here to service you. My name is Lila.”
Utterly mesmerised by the sight, Madeleine stretches out her fingertips to the glass, and meets flesh. She jumps, confused, enchanted, and touches the dress, moving her fingers further up the bodice, finding all the holes between the web of ties. For every second her fingers seek the reflection, she feels the scrape of long nails over her skin. It makes her shiver, and each wave converges between her legs. She reaches further up towards the reflection’s breast, and the nails scrape softly across her tender mounds, flicking at her nipples and making them stand out enough that the nails can hook them upwards, and she watches as Lila releases them with a long, low moan, her eyes fiery green flames of a netherworld.
“Touch your body. Let me see you find pleasure in yourself. Show me what it is you want to feel.”
With no more invitation that this, and unable to control herself, Madeleine’s fingers slide down her skin, her fingertips making contact with her sensitive little nub. As she does, the reflection flicks at her own shoulders, and her entire dress falls away, leaving Madeleine’s other hand to roam the revealed flesh in amazement.
“Do you like touching, Miss?”
Madeleine blushes. “Yes. I—yes, I do.”
The reflection smiles at her, sending hot quivers through every part of her body.
“Then put your hand here, Miss. While I put mine just there.”
Lila’s pussy lips open to her fingertips, and Madeleine gasps. Her own folds are subject to expert work that make her writhe and moan.
“Why not sit down? Open your legs, wide.”
She does as she is bid, forgetting who is the Lady and who is not. The sight before her makes her mew. Her juices pool in her entrance as she watches those in the reflection do the same. The scent of her own arousal drifts and fills her with heady excitement.
“Slide forward. Push your hips towards the mirror. Put your back to the floorboards.”
Slowly, pushing herself up towards the glass, she feels the hot flesh of Lila’s legs making contact with hers; first over the calf of one leg and the shin of the other, then over her knees, pressing up against the soft flesh of her thighs. Her heart begins to race, and her breath is shallow, erratic. She inches her way towards the mirror, starting to shake at the fairy tale to come, because this cannot be real, surely? Her tender, swollen folds brush against Lila’s own, pushing, sliding, and her orgasm begins to rage as her flesh meets Lila’s hot, wet slickness. She moans, uncertain, knowing this cannot be happening, wanting to feel more—.
Ina says her story was inspired by Keats’ narrative poem, The Eve of St Agnes, in which Porphyro and Madeleine elope one miserable night in winter. It’s her favourite poem and, Flights of Fantasy came to her, having re-read it for the thousandth time!
It's the second in
a new series of self-published paranormal erotica/erotic romance anthologies. The first was Lust by the Sea, and
the third, Lust in Tooth and Claw, will be available for pre-order on 23 September, and for general release by 4 October.
Each of these collections of individual hot and spicy novellas, with a
variety of sexy monsters, demons, and creatures of myth and legend. The ambitious premise for each anthology is for it to be completed, from concept to
publication, in six weeks.
This lusty, hardcore anthology is brought to you by four
authors who love looking to the sky and imagining all the paranormal creatures
that break the bonds of Earth’s gravity. Let their stories take flight in your
imagination on the wings of mythological creatures and erotic horrors who
tantalize, titillate and electrify.
The "blurbs" for the four novellas:
If it weren’t for bad luck with men, she’d have no luck at all. Reality will never be the same for graduate student Berry Randall. She’s just learned that shifters are real, and they want her for their mate. Can she escape her captors? Or will she find freedom in the arms of the winged gryphons?
Blood of Stone, by Jacqui Greaves
Fredegund has guarded her petrified charges for a century. With the rising of the twin moons, the Grotesques are awakening, hungry for more than food. Meanwhile, the human hordes have created the Charm, a seductress destined to destroy the balance of power between Grotesques and humans. Can Fredegund prevent the coming disaster, or will her world be changed forever?
Flights of Fantasy, by Ina Morata
Lila seeks a man who can satisfy her darkest desires. Porphyro and the virginal Madeleine are preparing to elope. Lila sets her sights on entrapping Porphyro, and sets sexy enticements to dispose of Madeleine. When her plans go awry, Lila must use her Lilitu wiles to seduce them both.
Leonora, Marked by Daemons, by Essemoh Teepee
We meet a feisty young woman with a secret. The SHAKKAN are the Shepherds, and humanity is their flock. For millennia they have bred Mark Bearers like Leo to withstand the most extreme forms of pleasure and pain. But nothing ever stays the same, and this is a time of great change.
“What is it, Alice?” Madeleine’s gaze is glued to the reflection of Alice’s fingers that deftly unlace her corset from behind and drop the garment to the floor, leaving her hand brushing against the fair fluff between Madeleine’s legs, and coming to light upon her little nub. She moans, and blushes once more. Alice keeps her hand there, moving her fingers every so often to the sound of tiny, low moans.
“I thought that, maybe, holding up the fine fabric to here—” Her hand is replaced with the finest netting, and Madeleine’s pussy throbs at the sight of the mystery between her thighs almost visible through the fabric. “Or maybe here—” Her body squirms under the expert hand that slides the netting up her torso and onto her naked breasts. Holding it there, she sees her nipples visible through it, and how they have grown darker than usual, and protrude quite clearly.
“Do you not think it a little too fine, Alice?” Her eyes close as she feels the touch of Alice’s thumbs on her hardening tips. Lost in the feeling, and the tingle that converges on her little nub, something cold and hard pressing up against her skin makes her body jolt.
“What is it you have gripped so hard in your hand, Alice? What is it you are holding around me?”
Alice stares at her, and for some reason, Madeleine shrinks a little under her eyes.
“Nothing but the dressmaker’s shears, Miss. I thought slicing the little piece in two…but it seems…maybe I am unable…”
Alice’s face breaks into a troubled frown as she lowers the shears.
“Will you excuse me, Miss? I have realised that I have forgotten my measure. I cannot ensure an accurate fit without it, can I?”
“Very well.” Madeleine’s breath is erratic, her body heaves. Still clinging to the feel of fingers floating over her body, she lets Alice leave the room. Standing there, her naked form staring back at her, she lets her own fingers tease her nipples and tantalise her clit, trying to imagine Porphyro’s fingers against her flesh. The image will not form clearly. A frustration sweeps over her, and she screws her eyes up tight. When she opens them, she squeals.
“I’m sorry, Miss. Alice has been called away elsewhere by your father. I am sent to finish you off.”
Madeleine’s first instinct is to grab something to cover herself. But there is something about the owner of the voice that captivates her, and her instinct is lost. She looks at the woman who appears as a reflection standing behind her: at her dark hair, and her dress covered in a cloak. She has the most beautiful face, ageless, although her eyes seem to hold ancient mysteries. As she lowers her cloak, Madelaine is fascinated by the dress she wears—it seems only an intertwining of laces and ribbons hold the bodice together down to her hips, the flesh of which is on display. It clings to her curves as if she has been poured into it, and is the most heart-stopping garment she has ever seen—worn by a servant whom she has never met. Could this be some mistress of her father’s? The dress trails around the woman’s feet, its draping train curling about her as if she has appeared on a sweep of the wind. On contact with eyes that pierce green in the glass, a pain accosts Madeleine, starting between her legs and ending in her chest. A couple of deep breaths and she is herself again, but blushing crimson at her state of undress.
“Why is it you wear such a—I have never seen the like of such a dress. You are a servant, are you not?”
The woman smiles. From behind her, something moves, and it takes Madeleine a moment or two to realise what she is seeing. Two stunning black wings begin to fan outwards, and the woman speaks to Madeleine’s reflection.
“Oh yes, Miss. I’m here to service you. My name is Lila.”
Utterly mesmerised by the sight, Madeleine stretches out her fingertips to the glass, and meets flesh. She jumps, confused, enchanted, and touches the dress, moving her fingers further up the bodice, finding all the holes between the web of ties. For every second her fingers seek the reflection, she feels the scrape of long nails over her skin. It makes her shiver, and each wave converges between her legs. She reaches further up towards the reflection’s breast, and the nails scrape softly across her tender mounds, flicking at her nipples and making them stand out enough that the nails can hook them upwards, and she watches as Lila releases them with a long, low moan, her eyes fiery green flames of a netherworld.
“Touch your body. Let me see you find pleasure in yourself. Show me what it is you want to feel.”
With no more invitation that this, and unable to control herself, Madeleine’s fingers slide down her skin, her fingertips making contact with her sensitive little nub. As she does, the reflection flicks at her own shoulders, and her entire dress falls away, leaving Madeleine’s other hand to roam the revealed flesh in amazement.
“Do you like touching, Miss?”
Madeleine blushes. “Yes. I—yes, I do.”
The reflection smiles at her, sending hot quivers through every part of her body.
“Then put your hand here, Miss. While I put mine just there.”
Lila’s pussy lips open to her fingertips, and Madeleine gasps. Her own folds are subject to expert work that make her writhe and moan.
“Why not sit down? Open your legs, wide.”
She does as she is bid, forgetting who is the Lady and who is not. The sight before her makes her mew. Her juices pool in her entrance as she watches those in the reflection do the same. The scent of her own arousal drifts and fills her with heady excitement.
“Slide forward. Push your hips towards the mirror. Put your back to the floorboards.”
Slowly, pushing herself up towards the glass, she feels the hot flesh of Lila’s legs making contact with hers; first over the calf of one leg and the shin of the other, then over her knees, pressing up against the soft flesh of her thighs. Her heart begins to race, and her breath is shallow, erratic. She inches her way towards the mirror, starting to shake at the fairy tale to come, because this cannot be real, surely? Her tender, swollen folds brush against Lila’s own, pushing, sliding, and her orgasm begins to rage as her flesh meets Lila’s hot, wet slickness. She moans, uncertain, knowing this cannot be happening, wanting to feel more—.
Ina says her story was inspired by Keats’ narrative poem, The Eve of St Agnes, in which Porphyro and Madeleine elope one miserable night in winter. It’s her favourite poem and, Flights of Fantasy came to her, having re-read it for the thousandth time!
Tempted? Here are some buy links..
Booklinker universal link: http://myBook.to/LustontheWing
Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01LXTE2W1
Amazon UK: http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B01LXTE2W1
Author Bios and Contact Details
Devi Ansevi, who also edited the anthology, is a prolific author, avid reader, closet romantic, incurable optimist, and owner of a very fertile, very naughty imagination. In her books, two or more people enjoy vanilla and non-vanilla sex, including spanking, bondage, dominance, toys, delicious punishments, and other naughty but oh-so-nice things. Her stories explore the dynamics of power in a relationship, all HEA or HFN.
Twitter @sexidevi or find her on Facebook. Learn more about the books she's written, read and reviewed at her Goodreads author page, Amazon Author page, or her Crush Blush blog. Sign up for her newsletter and once or twice a month, you’ll receive an email with all kinds of goodies, including exclusive behind-the-scenes peeks at her latest projects.
Some free short stories and flash fiction are posted on her Crush Blush ‘Free Stories’ page
Jacqui Greaves is a Melbourne-based writer of erotica, fantasy, science fiction and historical fiction who loves nothing more than mixing the genres together in weird and wonderful ways. Her stories seldom have happy endings and do not lean towards the romantic. She loves to explore the gritty, dark side of nature and has a passion for strong female characters.
Most days you can find her on Facebook and she’d love you to visit her webpage to find more of her stories.
Webpage: www.jacquigreaves-author.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100008782507874
Ina Morata describes herself as "a raging bibliophile, fascinated by mythology and the human experience alike". She enjoys exploring power dynamics, and writes from the heart, including the psychological, emotional and physical in her erotica and erotic romance. Her work contains vanilla and non-vanilla sex between two or more people, and includes spanking, dominance in real and virtual situations, bondage, voyeurism, and a whole number of other delicious, erotic themes.
Contact her on twitter @InaMorataWriter or via her Facebook Author Page. She's also on Pinterest and Instagram, and happy to discuss sexy books on Goodreads.
Sign up to her mailing list via her Ina Morata website to be kept up to date with news, including new releases, special offers and sexy, subscriber-only stories. There are more details about her books on her Amazon Author Page .
Essemoh Teepeeh has been published by Circlet Press, Renaissance/Sizzler and Cleis Press . He shares in an IPPY Gold Medal for the acclaimed anthology Carnal Machines, published by Cleis Press, which includes his steampunk story Doctor Watson Makes a House Call. While he enjoys writing erotic fiction that skirts the darker side of human experience, many of his stories turn out to have romance lurking in them, however hard he tries to expunge it!
Essemoh has spent years creating the erotic world of the SHAKKAN Universe. The previously unpublished story in this anthology is part of a story arc begun in the first volume of this series, Lust by the Sea. Full of adventure, sex, romance, monsters, more sex, heroines, heroes, even more hot sex, blood and death, all too hot for Amazon; these stories are continued elsewhere... go to Essemoh's website www.smotp.com for more.
He's developing an experiential audio technique he calls Directed Erotic Visualisation©. There are nearly 200 audio experiences to suit nearly every kink, gender and orientation... Find out more at www.smotp.xxx.
