Flash Fiction Friday #1 ~ Possessive

Happy Friday readers and fellow bloggers!

Flash Fiction Friday #1 ~ Possessive

He didn’t struggle when I grabbed him from behind and yanked him into the dark alley. I nuzzled his neck and dragged my tongue over his heated flesh.

Melting against me, he whispered, “Dale, don’t do this. We’re supposed to be separated.”

Anxious to have him, I ripped his shirt open and ran my hands over the smooth contours of his muscled chest.

He moaned and pushed his backside into my aching erection, jarring a throaty groan from me. My hand drifted down his torso, beneath his trousers and took hold of his stirring length.

“I’ll never let you go.”

Copyright © Yvonne Nicolas 2011

Thank you for reading. ;o) Much Love. Muah!


Review: Goners by Gerald Rice

5 tales of horror from the author of “The Ghost Toucher”. Meet Murray, an entrepreneur whose dreams are about to be dashed by a barely remembered superstition, Terence, a loner who finds his long lost live in the middle of a zombie apocalypse, an office worker who realizes idiots have literally taken over the job, a magician whose tricks become surreal even to him and a couple about to get serious in the middle of a cross-state trip.

If you like a good horror story. Pick up this novel!

Once you begin reading, you won’t stop until you reach the end. Mr. Rice has created a collection of short horror stories in Goners that has made me a fan of his. Each story was engaging, suspenseful and thrilling. I was drawn into this world of zombies, freak happenings, mad scientists and demented magicians, and although, some moments had me nervously nibbling at my nails and looking over my shoulder for the unknown, I enjoyed every bit of it!

Well done, Mr. Rice. I’m anxious to see what you come up with next.

I give Goner 5 dragon hearts:



Designing Love “Something Blue”

Hello fellow readers and authors!

I thought I’d start this month out with a free read from my bestselling novel, Designing Love. This is the first chapter, “Something Blue”, where the hero of the story is faced with the chore of being the best man at the wedding of his ex-woman and best friend, two people who betrayed his trust.


“Something Blue”

from Designing Love

“I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

The groom lifted the ivory veil and gazed at his new wife with pride. Tears of joy trickled down her face. Smiling, he palmed her flushed cheeks and captured her pink, pouting lips with a kiss.

A roar of applause erupted across the terrace. Butterflies were set free and tears filled the eyes of many envious women. Helicopters hovered overhead, harboring anxious paparazzi, who attempted to snap a money-making shot of the star studded event. Too bad a huge tent blocked their view of the lovely ceremony.

“I present to you, Mr. and Mrs. Hanks,” the priest announced proudly.

Maintaining a smile, that fought to leave his face, Devon Sparks patted the back of the groom, his best friend, Roland Hanks; the man who’d just married the woman of his dreams, after only three months of dating.

A beautiful love story, if you believed in that kind of shit.

Stacy Ann Larson, Devon’s former live-in girlfriend, fanned her face, trying desperately to dry the tears that proceeded to wreck her make-up. All twelve of her delighted bridesmaids surrounded her. Squeals and cheers of glee erupted from them.

Devon winced. Damn bridesmaids. He could think of a thousand other places he’d rather be than standing there watching the woman he loved beaming with happiness at being married to another man.

But he had to be there. He was, after all, the best man.

“Aw man. I’m the luckiest son-of-bitch in the world.” Roland yanked him into a back-slapping hug.

Returning the manly embrace, Devon recalled him shouting those same words while cuddled up with three sex-drained strippers last night. It wasn’t a surprise to him at all. Devon knew his friend of eighteen years would’ve taken a taste of the women as soon as they sashayed into the hotel room. Two blondes and one brunette, all prepared to give Roland, the super model, a happy send-off into the bonds of matrimony. Thanks to Kevin, his fraternity brother who set up the whole shindig.

“Dev, I want to thank you for coming out to be my best man. I couldn’t have done it without you,” he praised, honest emotions behind his glazed grey eyes.

Yeah, thank me for pulling your ass out of bed with three strange women and getting you into the shower to wash the scent of pussy off you, so you could make it to your wedding on time. Thank me for mixing up the concoction to sober your ass up, so you wouldn’t pass out at the altar, while marring my ex-girlfriend; whom I happen to still love. Yeah, dude, you owe me a big ass thank you.

He glanced over Roland’s shoulder. Stacy Ann was watching them with anxiety in her deep blue-green eyes and her bottom lip tucked between her teeth. Probably worried he’d make a scene. Hell, he couldn’t even put it past himself. The thought of getting pissy ass drunk and confessing his undying love for her in front of the wedding party had actually crossed his mind, but he wasn’t partial to humiliation, so the thought was quickly dismissed.

“Hey man, the two blondes wanted you bad,” Roland whispered. “They were disappointed you didn’t join in.”

“Next time, buddy…” Devon drew back and gripped his friend’s shoulder to move him in position to take his new wife’s arm. “Next time,” he finished on a mumble beneath his breath.

Sure, he could’ve told her she was making the biggest mistake in history by marrying Roland Hanks, but he knew his words would be ineffectual. She’d either hate him for revealing the truth or accuse him of being jealous and resentful. Either way he’d lose.

Devon held his arm out to Kimberly, the maid of honor, so they could take their positions to follow the groom and bride.

Beaming up at him, she took his arm and whispered, “Devon, you should be the one standing next to her as the groom. Yeah, he may be a big time celebrity and all, but he can’t compare to you. You’re the better man, hands down.”

Smiling warmly, he patted her white gloved hand. “No, sweetheart, I’m just the best man.”

Even Kim knew he still loved Stacy Ann.
Any other man in his position wouldn’t be this calm or willing to act as if he wasn’t torn up inside. But what was he to do? Even though Roland had broken the cardinal rule of friendship and went after his woman when he saw things were going bad, he couldn’t hate him for it. Truth was, he loved the guy like a brother and would always love him as such.

Sure, he had his moment of retribution when he beat Roland to a pulp for fucking his woman, but the satisfaction evaporated when he realized Roland was Stacy Ann’s choice. Roland’s lifestyle as a super model reeled her in like fish on a hook. She wanted the kind of life he could give her, to be talked about, seen in magazines, and envied by woman all over, for marrying the supposedly sexiest male model on this side of the equator. To her, it was better than being with a mere architect who was married to his job.

When they were together, Stacy Ann had demanded his attention twenty-four seven. The time he spent creating his buildings was a major source of dissension between them. The first month with her had been magical. He spent every waking hour doing for her, pleasing her, cherishing her. Then the beautiful minx somehow talked him into taking her in, sharing his home with her.

Like a dummy, he complied.

Two years, they argued over his dedication to his work. Twenty-four months, she demanded time he wasn’t ready to give. And it took him a hundred and four weeks to realize he and this woman were on opposite ends of the spectrum.

Nevertheless, he loved her. He still loved her.

Even after their final fight, which cost him the love of his life, Devon passed out false forgiveness. He forgave Roland, of course after he dropped to his knees and begged for it. He forgave Stacy, even after she came to him, a month ago with news of her engagement to his best friend.


That same day, she mounted Devon, and cooed words filled with erotic promises, and loved him hard and long, for closure. But she left him with an open gaping wound in his heart.

As they gradually moved along the terrace, Devon felt the eyes studying him intensely. It was almost as if he was getting more attention than the married couple in front of him. Scanning the area, he saw the eager women ogling him. He almost laughed.

Yes, he was the single friend who every woman with an itch wanted a piece of. Even an elderly woman, who stood aside, batted her eyes at him. He could do nothing but flash a tight-lipped smile at her. Now that’s just wrong. She is someone’s grandmother.

Finally, they made it to the reception hall where they took their assigned seats at the newly married couple’s table. The wedding coordinator rushed up behind him and tapped him on the shoulder.

“Please tell me you have a speech ready.”

“Don’t need one,” he murmured, watching the guest file into the sizeable room.

“Yes you do,” she whispered harshly.

Bathed in her spearmint coated breath, he turned and looked at her. “Relax Karen, I have it covered.”

She folded her lips in and patted his shoulder. “You better, mister, or it’s me and you after this reception.”

Grinning, he squeezed her hand. “Threat taken.”

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

Everyone’s attention shifted to him when he tapped the champagne glass with his fork. Glancing at Stacy Ann and Roland, he slowly stood.

“For those of you who don’t know…”

He heard Stacy taking in small sips of air. This was the time in the ceremony where he was supposed to screw things up.

“Roland and I have been friends for eighteen years.” But he wouldn’t dare screw up their perfect wedding day, even if he hated himself at the moment.

Devon plastered on a phony smile as he went on to spill out false words about the strength of his everlasting brotherhood with the groom to the crowd of onlookers who probably didn’t give a damn. Lightening the mood of the evening, he told jokes, which were funnier to the women than men. Naturally so, since they were all trying to get his attention. Finally, he ended his Oscar-winning performance by lifting his champagne glass.

“To the coolest guy I know – my brother,” He turned his gaze to Stacy Ann, who looked up at him with tear-filled eyes. “For finally finding the love of his life. May you two cherish one another until the end of time.”

End of performance.

Everyone applauded. Roland shot to his feet and pulled him into a bear hug. Over Roland’s shoulder, he stared at the woman who still owned his heart.

“Thank you,” she mouthed giving him a smile which nearly sent him over the edge.

Kim stood to give her I think Stacy Ann is so awesome speech, but Devon was too flustered to stay and listen. Retaining his happy façade, he moved from the table, navigated the outskirts of the hall, to make his way to the back of the building, then slipped into the bathroom.

Kim’s cheerful voice followed him into the handicap stall. His heart raced and stomach hurled. Sickened, he leaned over the commode and brought up the food he’d eaten earlier.

At that moment, he was utterly disgusted with himself. How could he have let this happen? How could he have let Roland talk him into coming to the wedding, and being the best man at that? What the fuck!

He should’ve cast them both out of his life the moment he found out about their love affair. He should’ve burned everything Stacy Ann had left in his house instead of pretending she’d never left. What the fuck was his problem? He’d never let anyone run circles around him. So why was he doing it now?

He pushed out a hard breath and shook his head.


Spitting out the last bit of his pride, he moved over to the sink. He triggered the sensor beneath the faucet, filled his cupped hands with water,
tossed it in his mouth, gargled then spat it out. Sighing, he filled his hands again and doused his face. Reluctantly, he stared at his reflection in the mirror, wishing for the power to transport elsewhere.

Another round of applause blared through the ceiling speakers as Kim concluded her speech. With sadness clouding his blue eyes, he watched the droplets of water drip from his face. He dreaded having to go back out into the pit of shame. If only he could just linger indefinitely in the bathroom.

“Yeah, I get like that too.”

Slowly, he turned his head to see a sexy redhead propped against the open stall with a seductive intention gleaming in her piercing green eyes. A silky burgundy gown clung delicately to her lean curves. Tan freckles dotted her milky white cleavage. She had the type of beauty that belonged in front of a camera. Definitely a model, most likely Roland’s guest.
“When I have to get up in front of a crowd of people…” She smoothed her hands down her gown, displaying more of her slender frame. “My nerves get the better of me and I end up running to the bathroom too.”

Casually, he eyed her up and down before turning back to the sink. He snatched a paper towel from the dispenser and dried his face.

“Have I wondered into the ladies room?” he asked, balling up the paper to toss it into the trash.

“No, you’re in the right place.” Her eyes roamed desirably over him.

Something so recklessly dangerous and erotic sparked within her gaze. He nearly snatched her from where she stood to pin her to the wall. That would be rich; fucking some random chick in the bathroom during his friend’s wedding celebration.

But it wouldn’t happen. Not today. He was too damn distraught to act on such an exotic fantasy.

Offering her a sheepish grin, he moved past her to exit the stall, grazing his fingertips across her belly in the process. She quivered against his soft touch.

He leaned in until his lips were almost touching her ear. “For the record, I usually like to pursue my lovers, not the other way around.”

The air from her shaky sigh tickled the side of his face. He inhaled the scent of her sweet perfume, and stepped away, leaving her speechless. Suddenly eager to get out of restroom with the promiscuous nymph, he headed toward the exit.

He’d seen women do some pretty interesting things to get his attention, but following him into the rest room was a little extreme.

Holding the door open for her, he watched her saunter across the tile like she was on a cat walk. “You act like you haven’t already pictured yourself between my thighs.”


At her bold words his cock stirred to life as she brushed past him. He smiled, raked his hands through his hair and watched her behind sway provocatively. Although her approach was a bit off putting, her raw sensuality gradually drew him out of his doleful mood.

He looked out onto the dance floor to see the celebration was well on its way. Baby got back from Sir Mix A Lot blared from the speakers while several people, without back, gyrated and jerked on the platform in the center of the room. Chuckling beneath his breath, he shifted his eyes back to the redhead to catch her watching him.

Amused, he moved to her side. “I can’t figure out for the life of me why people with no ass feel the need to dance to this song.”

With laughter dancing in her eyes, she snickered. “My sentiments exactly, that’s why I’m not out on the dance floor.” She looked out to the crowd and sidled closer to him. “So what’s it going to be, handsome? Are you going to take me back to your place, or are you going to continue to act like you don’t want a piece of me?”

A half smile curved his lips. Should I?

Devon looked across the packed hall at the head table. Stacy Ann watched him intently. To her right, Roland slapped high fives and joked with his groomsmen. The champagne was already taking affect on his wild friend. After a swift perusal of the scene, he locked eyes with Stacy Ann.

“Don’t let the looks fool you darling,” he said to the redhead without wavering from Stacy Ann’s gaze. “I’m damaged goods.”

“Aren’t we all? Just in case you haven’t figured it out yet, I want your body, not your heart.”

Smiling more to himself than at the gorgeous bride staring at him from across the room, he slid his gaze to the eager beauty to his side. Why shouldn’t he have a piece of her? Hell, it was a lot better than sitting around lapping at his wounded heart. From his peripheral, he saw Stacy Ann stand and leave the table.

“What’s your name?” He gently cupped her elbow.

“Carmen,” she breathed out as if his touch had her at a loss for breath.

He ushered her toward the exit. “Nice to meet you, Carmen.”

He turned his head toward the strident call of his name. There stood Stacy in her lovely wedding gown, her hands planted on her hips. “Are you trying to sneak out, Devon?” she asked, darting her eyes at Carmen.

“No, I wasn’t sneaking anywhere. I was simply leaving.”

“You can’t leave.”

“Watch me.”

“Wait, Devon. That’s not right. You’re the best man. Roland would be upset if you just left.”

“Really? Well let’s put it to the test, shall we?” He looked toward the head table, got Roland’s attention, nodded to him then nodded toward Carmen. With a dumb ass grin crossing his face, Roland nodded back, signaling his approval with two thumbs up. “See, no problem there.”

“But – but Devon, you owe me a dance.”

And there it was. The sweet tone she used to get whatever she wanted from him; the soft needy appeal that always turned him to putty.

“It’s my wedding day. Can’t you spare one little dance for me?” she coaxed, pouting her mouth.

Wiping his hand down his face, he reluctantly shook his head. “Stacy Ann, I really don’t want—.”

“I have a business proposition for you, one which requires your expertise in architecture.”

He perked up. Now she was talking his language. “One dance,” he grumbled sternly, taking her arm to lead her to the dance area.

He glanced back at Carmen and she mouthed, “I’ll be right here.”

Twirling Stacy Ann out on the floor, he swayed her to the song, Quando Quando Quando.

Guests moved about on the dance floor, too focused on their own steps to pay them any attention, which suited him because he wasn’t in the mood to be in the spot light. He glanced to his left to see Roland clumsily twirling Kim about while she tittered like a school girl. The sight briefly brought a smile to his face.

Giggling, Stacy Ann beamed up at him. “You were always a fabulous dancer.”

“Cut the shit, Stacy Ann. What’s the proposition?”

She narrowed her eyes and pushed air swiftly through her teeth. “You were really going to leave with her, weren’t you?”

“I am going to leave with her. And what does it matter to you anyway?”

“She’s my cousin, Devon.”

Glancing at the patiently waiting redhead, who kept her eyes glued on him, he smiled. He’d only met Stacy Ann’s mother and father, no uncles, aunts, and definitely no cousins, but the fact Carmen was family to her didn’t shake his resolve in the least.

“And this means what to me, exactly?”

He almost chuckled when she huffed in irritation. “She’s only trying to get with you, because she knows you and I used to be an item. She’s always been jealous of me and always wanted everything I had. She’s just using you to get under my skin.”

“Again, I should care about this because?” Smoothly, he dipped her for the cameras.

“You don’t have to be so bitter, Devon. You and I are still friends and I still love you,” she disclosed softly, so only his ears caught her words. “I know this is a lot to ask of you, but it’s a matter of respect. Please don’t sleep with my cousin.”

“Respect!” he shot back a lot louder than he intended. He stepped away from her. A few heads spun in their direction, but he was too damn appalled to keep up the façade of civility.

Hesitantly, she reached out, pulled him close and smiled for the onlookers. “Don’t make a scene,” she hissed through clenched teeth. “I’m not trying to rile you up. I’m just asking for a favor.”

Grounding his teeth in frustration, he took her hand and gracefully spun her out then back into his arms again. “Alright, I won’t sleep with her, but I will sleep with the devilishly sexy brunette staring at me from across the room. Oh, and look at that, she winked.”

“No, don’t.” Stacy Ann whined, without turning to see who he was referring to.

“Why, is she your cousin too?”

“Look, this is a terrible position for me and it’s just going to take me a while to get used to the idea of you being with someone else. Like I said, I still love you, but at the same time, I love Roland too.”

Devon turned to pull away from her, but she held on tight to his jacket.

“Part of me still belongs to you, Devon. You know that. So, please, just give me time.”

He briefly closed his eyes, placed a hand on the center of her back and grazed his fingers across the pearl buttons which held the lovely gown together. As not to give away his desire for her, he moved her around the dance floor, fighting to keep a respectful distance between them.

“Okay. Tell me about this proposition.”

Smiling wider, she petted his chest. “Thank you, Devon. I want you to design a house, two levels. There are no budget constraints, really. I want this house to be suitable for Roland and me to start a family. Our dream house.”

The record scratched in his mind, ceasing the crooning voice of Micheal Buble.

Did she just ask him to design a house for her and Roland? One of which they’d build a family in?

Unpleasantly surprised, he stared at her not moving, not even breathing for a moment. This was coming from the same woman who confessed she never wanted to have children. Now all of a sudden she wanted to create a family, with another man?

Of all the things she could’ve done to rip his heart out, this was at the top of the list, but believe it or not, he couldn’t turn her down. He’d never turn down an offer to do what he loved, even if it was offered by two people, who seemed like they wanted to destroy him.

“Excuse me,” he choked out, backing away from her.

After bowing politely, he turned and moved swiftly off the dance floor. He darted to the back of the hall, grabbed Carmen’s hand and pushed through the double doors without looking back.

Fuck the promise! He needed someone to distract him from fucking hanging himself.

His inner voice told him not to do it, but he’d already set in his mind that he would. He would design their dream house. He’d design one so spectacular they’d never want to leave it, once built. But to do so, he’d need several bottles of scotch and many nights of mind numbing sex with a beautiful stranger.

Copyright © Yvonne Nicolas 2010 

Wanna know what happens next? 😀


‘Til Death Do We Part

Hello world!

I have a dark story to share, all in the name of Halloween. This is not a horror story, well it may be horrific for some. Betrayal, heartbreak, and madness.

Warning; this one may leave you gasping in shock. *grinning mischievously*


‘Til Death Do We Part

By Yvonne Nicolas

I couldn’t move, nor could I take my eyes off of him. My dear husband…

Sweat beads trickled down Randy’s sculpted back to disappear between the cleft of his backside. The sheen of perspiration gleamed against his sexy copper toned skin and impressive muscles. His deep moans mingled with his lover’s soft mewls to serenade the quiet room used as his home office. The stale scent of sex permeated the air.

My dear husband…

Bent over the leather chair I bought him three years ago, was his lover, taking the brunt of his ten-inch cock.

“Dana, you there? Don’t do anything crazy. Just walk away and leave him for God’s sake!”

The high pitch voice of my sister screaming from my cell phone became a distant echo in my ear. I could only hear the fervent sexual chorus wafting through the small office.

Focused on his lover, Randy didn’t notice me standing in the doorway. The heaving derriere before him held all his attention. It was good to him. I could tell. His brows were bunched, his eyes were half-mast and slightest drop of saliva clung to the corner of his mouth, or was it his lover’s secretions.

There was a time when he rode my ass just like that. He would plunge relentlessly into my core, making my body slurp and suck his shaft in rapturous satisfaction. His hands would dig into my hips to hold me in place while he dominated the pace of our lovemaking, exactly how he fucked his lover at this very moment.

“Dana, please say something! You’re scaring me!”

A groan of disgust got caught in my throat. I felt a combination of lust and hate for this man that I had loved for twelve years. The two extreme emotions swirled within my stomach, stirring my intestines.

I didn’t know what to do. Should I take my sister’s advice and turn the other cheek, swallow my pride, like I’ve done so many times before?

Til death do we part.

I had gained weight. I’m not the size four I was back in high school. My boobs aren’t as perky and my ass isn’t as tight. After the kids, I blew up to a size fourteen. I was clearly not beautiful to him anymore, nor his type.

Looking away from the sexing pair, if only for a moment, I thought of the lovely memories we made throughout the years.

“That’s it! I’m coming to get you. Wait for me in front of the house, Dana.”

Since middle school, he’d been my dream boy, my star quarter back, my best friend. He was the first boy I ever kissed, the first boy I had sex with, and the only man I ever loved. We knew everything there was to know about one another, shared all of our secrets, or at least I thought we did.

My dear husband…

A single tear left the corner of my eye and ran down my cheek.

I remember the first time he went down on me. It felt like a bolt of lightning from heavens had stormed through my body. He was nasty and I loved it. The man didn’t leave one crevice of my pussy untouched with his tongue and mouth. I became addicted to him and the pleasure he gave. He brought things out of me that I didn’t know was there. From licking his rear end to sucking on some strange woman’s clit during a party, I was his personal little freak, and I did anything to please him.

Til death do we part.

Perhaps that was my mistake. I should’ve drawn the line somewhere, or at least learned to love myself before giving all my love to him. Now I realize I was just a tool to him, an android doing his sexual bidding.

Twelve fucking years.

I’d given him everything, even three beautiful children. I’d given up dreams, just to be with him, my beautiful husband. Why wasn’t that enough to be faithful to me?

I dropped the phone into my handbag and noticed the maroon pouch next to it. I had totally forgotten that was there. Randy had given it to me a month ago for protection, after I was robbed at gunpoint. Violence had risen in our area. The recession.

I retrieved the pouch and casually extracted the pistol. It fit perfectly in my small hand. I stared at it and unlocked the safety. Oddly, my hands were steady, not shaky like they should’ve been.

Something had changed within me.

All the women he’d crept around with, and all the times I pretended to be oblivious to the fact that my husband no longer loved me boiled down to this moment. A woman could only take so much.

With the edge of the barrel pressed to my temple, I slid my finger over the trigger.

Til’ death do we part.

“Dana!” Randy stumbled back, his naked cock glistening in sexual fluids. “What are you…?”

Before he could utter another word, I whipped the gun toward him and my brother, then pulled the trigger.

Pop! Pop… Pop! Like firecrackers, the gun sounded off.

In slow motion, they slumped to the floor. Without an ounce of regret about what I’d just done, I watch them fall. It was strange. I didn’t feel the pain strangling my heart anymore, or the rumble in my stomach that made me want to vomit. As a matter of fact, I felt nothing.

I was numb.

Still holding my gun tight, I slowly approached the bodies. Two shots straight through his head and my brother no longer enjoyed the pleasure of my husband’s cock.

Hanging onto his last strands of life, Randy reached out for me. Blood spewed out of his mouth on a strangled cough. “Dana,” he strained out. “I love you.”

Those words took me back to our high school prom, where he confessed his deep feelings to me, where he promised to marry and love me, only me, for all time. My dear husband…

I smiled, swiped the tear from my cheek and pointed the barrel of the gun at his head. “I know. And I love you to my darling, ‘til death do we part.”



Copyright © Yvonne Nicolas 2010



Meet Demetri Bithanos from the Dragon Queen Series

From the comfort of my underground chambers, I feel daybreak slowly stretch across the region. I can only envision the sight and reminisce about what it’s like to watch the sun rise. Now, I’m ever so eager to see it fall, for that is when my day begins and yours end.

Fatigue weighs heavily on me as Lady Sun kisses the sky. The ingrained downfall of my nature makes me sluggish. Don’t think of this as a complaint. I’ve come to terms with the disadvantage of my extended curse…and gift.

Slumber calls to me, but I gave my word to a young author, one whom I had the pleasure of tasting last night.

Ahh, dear sweet, delicious, Yvonne…

I still see the astonishment on her face when I sailed through her window as a shadow on the wind. Imagine that. A creature she thought was a figment of her brilliant imagination actually exists. Correction, have existed, many, many centuries on this God forsaken planet.

Still, the tangy sweetness of her blood lingers on my tongue, reminding me of why I’m resisting the natural urge to sleep.

She willingly met her end of the bargain, and now I shall meet mine.

My name is Demetri Bithanos. Some know me by that name, but most know me as Death. Born in this world as a human Andausian and turned demon vampire, I am the slayer of this realm. Demon blood stains my blade and evil mortals whet my appetite. Death is a part of me and is my sole purpose here on earth.

This will not be a story of my past or a revelation of how I became an immortal nightwalker. It’s pointless to discuss this with you all when you are nothing more than a means to satisfy my dark desire. You don’t need to know me. You just need to fear me.

You see, I know your darkest secrets. I know the wicked thoughts and desires that caress the walls of your mind. The sheer fibers of your sins compel me to come to you and claim what you have taken for granted. Your precious life.

Forget what you think you know of my kind. I don’t fear crosses or garlic, and I don’t need an invitation to enter your domain.

I come and take as I please.

Does that arouse you? Your heartbeat quickens with my words. Your blood runs hot with fear. Ah, yes. You know I will come for you. Tonight, tomorrow perhaps? I should enlighten you, but I will not.

Continue to wonder. Continue to dream.

When you close your eyes, you’ll see me as the whisper of a shadow, taunting you, ravishing your mind. Then when you open your eyes, I’ll be there, watching you, wanting you.

It is futile to resist. Don’t run. I will catch you. Don’t hide. I will find you. Don’t scream, I will… On second thought, I would like it very much if you’d scream for me. Struggle if you’d like. It makes the draw of your blood that much sweeter.

I don’t want to hear about your regrets or the things left undone during your sad, misbegotten life. It doesn’t concern me. Beg for your life if you must, but know it will do you no good. The moment I became aware of you, your life was over, mine to claim.

Don’t bother to repent to me. I am not your priest. In this still moment in time, I am simply your lover in death.

You know this now when you look into my eyes and your life flashes before them. Surrender to me. There is nothing you can do, nothing you can say to change my intent. You belong to me now.

You’ll be pleased to know that my methods of taking life are not always so brutal and monstrous as you may think. How I ravage your body and soul is entirely up to you. Tell me, how do you want to die? Caught up in utter bliss?

I can be gentle if you’d like. Would you want me to touch you there? Would you want me to bite you here? Lick your gushing wound? Fill your aching core? Would you…?

Do my questions confuse you? Do my actions confound your mind? I sense that it does, for I smell the arousal of your body stirring all around me. It dances and weaves with the distressing emotion you feel right now.

Are you shivering? Let me hold you.

Do not fret, this will not end quickly. I am a slow and explorative lover. I’ll be sure to tantalize your every fantasy and taste every inch of your flesh before you take your final shuddering breath, my sweet lover in death.

Whisper my name as I lap at the quivering veins on your inner thighs. The vessels throb and bulge beneath my tongue, begging to be pierced. I indulge. Do you feel my fangs slide into your flesh? The strings of my dark rapture scatter throughout your entire body? Isn’t it insanely blissful? Do you want more?

Don’t hold back. Let it go.

As waves of ecstasy storms through you, your heartbeat slows. Between soft butterfly kisses, I leave a stamp of my passion up the center of your body. Yes… Can you feel me, beautiful one? Can you feel your life slipping away?

I lock my lips over your jugular and slide between your inviting thighs. I drank deeply, slowly, ravenously, taking in the very essence of you.

Your flesh grows cold. Your breathing is shallow then finally your heart stops.

A beautiful death for you. Wouldn’t you be so fortunate to die in my embrace.

Find out more about the deadly Demetri in The Dragon Queen Series.


Black Rayne Silent Screams “Dark Rapture”


R&B sensation Sharayna “Rayne” Piers lives a life dedicated to her music. On stage and in the studio, she pours her heart and soul into the lyrics of her songs. But every since her twentieth birthday, her seemingly normal life has taken a turn to the dark side.

Piercing screams and horrid visions of horrendous acts of murder haunt her night and day. Women similar to her in age are vanishing all over the world without a trace, leaving Rayne wondering if the mass of disappearances are connected with her visions.

Soon she will discover that the world she was raised in is just a cover to what really hides in the shadows, and that her life as a human is a deception to mankind, a guise to conceal her true nature. Will she shun the darkness that has befallen her or step up to the throne to become what she was created to be…the Dragon Queen?


Black Rayne Silent Screams

Excerpt Dark Rapture

Bound by his sweetly spoken command, Rayne closed her eyes. Pure rapture flowed beneath his skin. Her nipples hardened and stung, her clit ached to be touched. Her breathing hitched as he drew her closer to him. She slipped her palm around his neck. His hands circled her waist then slid over the curve of her ass.

The temperature between their bodies rose to a blazing inferno. His veins began to pulsate beneath her touch.

She felt the blood, sensed it—the new evil blood that coursed through his being. This blood aroused her, called to her. It evoked a yearning within her, which kindled a ravenous fire. She wanted it. Her lips quivered with the need for a taste.

Digging his fingers within her hair, he inhaled deeply, pressing his lips against her temple. “Feel it,” he whispered.

Suddenly, gut wrenching screams entered her mind followed by images of unfamiliar faces, tortured faces, bloodless faces. Gasping, she withdrew her hands and attempted to pull away, but he locked his arms around her waist and held her against him.

“Embrace it,” he demanded hauntingly.

Her mind was swamped with panic, but she couldn’t erase the need to have him inside of her. She felt so damn twisted. “You killed them.”

“I did,” he responded softly, teasing the few strands of hair hanging along the side of her face. “You knew I would before I left you tonight.” The flames from the floating candles flickered violently with his words. “You knew I needed to, didn’t you?”

Not able to form words, she shook her head. Would it always be this complex while with him, torn between being scared shitless and horny out of her mind?


Day 10 of the Ten authors, Ten Days, Ten Tales blog tour

It the final day of the Ten authors, Ten Days, Ten Tales blog tour!

On Twitter today, Angel Martinez will be dropping quotes from her novel, Diego.


Guest appearing on James Lewis’ blog today is Missy Lyons.


Meet one of the characters from Dee Shores’ novel, The Finisher.


Doing youtube chat today is Laverne Thompson.


Day 9 of the Ten authors, Ten Days, Ten Tales blog tour

Dancing our way to Day 9 of the Ten authors, Ten Days, Ten Tales blog tour!

On Twitter today, yours truly, Yvonne Nicolas will be leaving some saucy quotes from my novel, Black Rayne Silent Screams.


Guest appearing on Maggie Berkley’s blog today is Franny Armstrong.


Renee Michaels will be featuring one of the characters from her bestselling novel, A Wild Ride to Paradise.


Doing youtube chat today is Kristy Denice Bock.


Day 8 of the Ten authors, Ten Days, Ten Tales blog tour

Fabulously moving on to Day 8 of the Ten authors, Ten Days, Ten Tales blog tour!

On Twitter today, James Lewis will be dropping us with quotes from his novel, SellOut.


Guest appearing on Missy Lyons’ blog today is Dee Shores.


Laverne Thompson will be featuring one of the characters from her bestselling novel, Chances Are.


Doing youtube chat today is, Angel Martinez.


Day 7 of the Ten authors, Ten Days, Ten Tales blog tour!

Follow me…

On Twitter today, Maggie Berkley will be entertaining us with quotes from her novel, Enter the Night. Join her.


Guest appearing on Franny Armstrong’s blog today is my pal Renee Michaels.


Kristy Denice Bock will be featuring one of the characters from her bestselling novel, Divine Intervention.


Doing youtube chat today is yours truly, Yvonne Nicolas. Come through and show ya girl some love.