Paranormal Interracial Erotica and Romance

Upcoming Releases

noreply@blogger.com (Mahogany SilverRain) — Mon, 06 Jun 2011 20:02:00 +0000

My Upcoming New Releases for Summer 2011

What happens when you leave everything you know behind for the man you love?

Nefari, an African princess, discovers this for herself when she falls in love with a foreign king, Raja Tanji Ranjit Singh of Sharavati, India and leaves her family behind in West Africa to become India's first black rani or queen. She has a tough time with the language and the people, who are angry with the king for making this foreign woman their queen. The biggest threat she faces is from the king's younger brother, Sanji, who secretly plots against them. Will he succeed in overthrowing the king and his new bride?

Excerpt:

West Africa

"As her dark brown skin baked in the noonday sun, her lovely dark eyes concentrating, she stood knee deep in the waters of the Ivory Coast. She had been out all morning, it being her day to do the fishing. Her mudcloth skirt tied just above her knees, her chest bare as the sweat dripped down her neck and in between her breasts. Her muscles tensed as she patiently watched the fish in the clear water beneath her, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Though not her usual fishing spot, something told her the fish were gathering in this place and relying heavily on instinct, she distanced herself from the other tribal women to this remote spot. Much to her delight, she found many fish and skillfully used her spear to capture about eight or so and thanked them for their sacrifice. Suddenly, she heard a commotion that broke her concentration.

The sound of an elephant, men yelling in a language that Nefari had never heard before. She turned around and walked back toward the shore. She placed the caught fish on her spear among the rocks and ran up from the shore to road. She marveled at the sight of a rather large elephant weighted down with a white and golden howdah with canopy and rails embedded with jewels and pearls. Beneath the howdah was a large golden fabric decorated with various jewels that hung on the elephant to its knees. Around the elephant’s legs were large gold rings. Its tusks adorned with jewels and it wore a large headpiece that made Nefari wondered if the poor creature could even see in front of him. Riding in the howdah was a man who wore a small blue and white turban wrapped tightly around his head with a peacock shaped brooch at the center. His clothing was luxurious, blue silk embroidered with silver and gold, but what intrigued Nefari the most were his piercing dark brown eyes that caught sight of her and smiled. Nefari froze where she stood, slightly shaking from head to toe.

Four men also dressed in turbans and silk garments, though not as lavish as the man who rode the elephant, were guiding the elephant. The elephant was now stalling and the men began to beat it with the narrow rods they carried. The elephant cried out again and raised its trunk in protest. Nefari’s eyes drew away from the man on the elephant to the elephant who cried out in pain. Nefari heard the elephant’s thoughts, a gift she had since birth, speaking to and understanding animals, and felt pity for her. It is a silent exchange that most humans cannot hear, but Nefari read their thoughts and in turn, the animals could hear hers.

She yelled at the men to stop beating the poor elephant, but the men did not understand her as she spoke in English. However, the man riding the elephant understood her and ordered the men to stop. The foreign king looked sternly at the sweaty, bare chested young woman who dared to give his men an order. “Who are you and why have you ordered my men to stop beating this beast?” The king demanded.

“I am Princess Nefari of the Cote d’Ivoire, daughter of the tribal chief, Muammer Al-Gaith and I will not standby and watching such cruelty to an elephant who has slowed because the calf she carries has made her weary and hungry!” Nefari shouted back defiantly."

Will it be love or duty?

Annika, an Indian princess in the small province of Sharavati, India is living a wonderful life full of adventure and riches. That is until a declaration of war from a neighboring province with a vast army causes her father, King Tanji, to seek support from the High King, the Maharaja of Rajasthan. The Maharaja, having heard of the exotic looking princess Annika, asks for her hand in marriage in exchange for lending his support to the king. The king agrees since no other offers of marriage have come for his daughter, who is part African, and feels this would be in their kingdom’s best interest as well as Annika’s, who could become India’s first Black Maharini. However, Annika is in love with her childhood playmate, Ramai, who is now captain of her father’s palace guards. Will she defy her father, risking treason for Ramai and herself or will she marry the Maharaja to save her father’s kingdom?

Upcoming Releases

noreply@blogger.com (Mahogany SilverRain) — Fri, 01 Apr 2011 17:58:00 +0000

My Upcoming New Releases for Spring and Summer 2011

Spring 2011 Release

What happens when you leave everything you know behind for the man you love?

Nefari, an African princess, discovers this for herself when she falls in love with a foreign king, Raja Tanji Ranjit Singh of Sharavati, India and leaves her family behind in West Africa to become India's first black rani or queen. She has a tough time with the language and the people, who are angry with the king for making this foreign woman their queen. The biggest threat she faces is from the king's younger brother, Sanji, who secretly plots against them. Will he succeed in his plans against them?

Excerpt:

As her dark brown skin baked in the noonday sun, her lovely dark eyes concentrating, she stood knee deep in the waters of the Ivory Coast. She had been out all morning, it being her day to do the fishing. Her mudcloth skirt tied just above her knees, her chest bare as the sweat dripped down her neck and in between her breasts. Her muscles tensed as she patiently watched the fish in the clear water beneath her, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Though not her usual fishing spot, something told her the fish were gathering in this place and relying heavily on instinct, she distanced herself from the other tribal women to this remote spot. Much to her delight, she found many fish and skillfully used her spear to capture about eight or so and thanked them for their sacrifice. Suddenly, she heard a commotion that broke her concentration.

The sound of an elephant, men yelling in a language that Nefari had never heard before. She turned around and walked back toward the shore. She placed the caught fish on her spear among the rocks and ran up from the shore to the road. She marveled at the sight of a rather large elephant weighted down with a white and golden howdah with canopy and rails embedded with jewels and pearls. Beneath the howdah was a large golden fabric decorated with various jewels that hung on the elephant to its knees. Around the elephant’s legs were large gold rings. Its tusks adorned with jewels and it wore a large headpiece that made Nefari wondered if the poor creature could even see in front of him. Riding in the howdah was a man who wore a small blue and white turban wrapped tightly around his head with a peacock shaped brooch at the center. His clothing was luxurious, blue silk embroidered with silver and gold, but what intrigued Nefari the most were his piercing dark brown eyes that caught sight of her and smiled. Nefari froze where she stood, slightly shaking from head to toe.

I cannot bear this anymore! I must eat and rest, my rider is too heavy and my swollen belly is too much in this heat! Why do they beat me? Can’t they see that I must stop?

Nefari heard the elephant’s thoughts, a gift she had since birth, speaking to and understanding animals, and felt pity for her. It is a silent exchange that most humans cannot hear, but Nefari read their thoughts and in turn, the animals could hear hers. Don’t worry, I won’t let them beat you anymore. The elephant slowly turned to Nefari. You can understand me?

Yes, I can and I will help you.

Oh, a thousand blessings to you!

Nefari yelled at the men to stop beating the poor elephant, but the men did not understand her as she spoke in English. However, the man riding the elephant understood her and ordered the men to stop. The foreign king looked sternly at the sweaty, brave young woman who dared to give his men an order. “Who are you and why have you ordered my men to stop beating this beast?” The king demanded.

“I see, well I am His Highness Raja Tanji Ranjit Singh of Sharavati, Rajasthan, India. You may call me King Tanji if you like. So why do you trouble yourself for such a stupid beast?” said the king as gave Nefari the once over, stopping briefly at her bare breasts with its dark pointed nipples.

“She is not a stupid beast, your highness!”

“I see, and how is it that you know all of this about her?”

“I can sense these things, about animals, it’s a gift, or so my father told me”, Nefari smiled.

She was beautiful to the king, the rarest of gems and the most exotic of flowers with her dark braided hair that hung just past her shoulders, deeply bronzed skin and golden eyes. The tribal markings, beads and shells she wore around her neck and head only enhanced that beauty and told the king that she was indeed the daughter of a chief.

He knew Africa was a country of beauty and precious gems. He knew of the various tribes of peoples here in West Africa, but he had never spoken to one directly. The British referred to them as savage natives, but then had they not also referred to his own people the same way? The king had been educated at Oxford in England and spoke English quite well and he attended classes at the London College of Africa and Asia Studies.

Nefari had never been ashamed of her body and though she was accustomed to the passing glances of the village warriors, she blushed under the bold scrutiny of the man riding the elephant. However, she never looked away from the king, staring boldly back at him.

One of the king’s servants whispered to the other something about Nefari’s breasts in Hindi and the king’s instant jealousy darkened his face. He shouted at them in Hindi and forced them to look in the other direction. When he turned back to face Nefari, his face immediately softened though his thick mustache still twitched angrily.

“Is it your custom to run around half naked? Cover yourself immediately!” He growled.

Nefari laughed, “Yes, it is, but I am not yet a married woman and in my tribe, only married women cover their breasts”.

The king’s anger subsided as he listened to her melodious laugh and smiled at her once again before turning to bark orders to the four men below."

Summer 2011 Release

Will it be love or duty?

Annika, an Indian princess in the small province of Sharavati, India is living a wonderful life full of adventure and riches. That is until a declaration of war from a neighboring province with a vast army causes her father, King Tanji, to seek support from the High King, the Maharaja of Rajasthan. The Maharaja, having heard of the exotic looking princess Annika, asks for her hand in marriage in exchange for lending his support to the king. The king agrees since no other offers of marriage have come for his daughter, who is part African, and feels this would be in their kingdom’s best interest as well as Annika’s, who could become India’s first Black Maharini. However, Annika is in love with her childhood playmate, Ramai, who is now captain of her father’s palace guards. Will she defy her father, risking treason for Ramai and herself or will she marry the Maharaja to save her father’s kingdom?

Excerpt:

Like a bird in a gilded cage, she sat solemnly staring out the shielded window of her palace bedroom overlooking her formal courtyard garden. Despite the beauty and opulence of her surroundings, her spun silk garments, ornately carved furnishings, plush pillows in colors of rust and gold, and marble tiled floors, she cared nothing for them.

“You refuse to eat or even leave your room. How long will sit and stare out the window?” Her mother, Queen Nefari, gently patted her head.

“Until my father changes his mind!” she groaned as she pulled away from her mother.

“Annika, your father has made his decision, you must accept it. You are a princess and must do what he commands. It is your duty to marry the Maharaja.”

Annika sighed heavily as she turned back to face her mother in defiance. “It’s not fair! I’m not ready to be a bride and I want my husband to be someone of my choosing! You were not forced to marry my father, you loved each other!”

“It is not the same, things are different now! The Maharaja is a powerful ally to us, we need his support, and his only request was that the Maharaja marries you to seal the agreement.”

“Don’t you want me to be happy mama?” Annika pleaded, her eyes brimming with tears.

Queen Nefari gently rubbed away an escaped tear that spilled down her lovely daughter’s cheek. She wanted nothing more than her daughter’s happiness, but there was nothing she could do ease her pain. She knew all too well about the duties of a royal wife and Annika had been raised as such, but she had also been indulged by her parents. She had a literary education, taught to hunt along with martial arts training, and allowed to play with the children of the servants, learn dance, and learn craft working and the arts, including the erotic arts or “love lessons” of the Kamasutra in order to please her future husband."

PASSION'S PRIDE: LEONESSA

noreply@blogger.com (Mahogany SilverRain) — Mon, 12 Jul 2010 17:16:00 +0000

The first book in my shifter series, Leonessa, will be released soon. Set in the Sierra Leone, West Africa, an erotic paranormal tale unfolds....

Read the first two chapters here:

CHAPTER ONE

The air held the scent of her prey as she crouched in the darkness, her three-foot long tail curled around her right side. She waited silently, patiently lulling her prey, a young male zebra grazing alone, into a false sense of security. Why it was out alone, she didn’t question, just thankful she would be able to kill and return it to the village for food. She took shallow breaths as each muscle in her body tensed, like a tightly wound spring that was ready to pop when she caught another scent, human. The sound of an approaching engine and the strange illumination of headlights spooked the zebra and it ran off into the distance. There goes my dinner. She thought regretfully.

Incensed at her prey’s hasty retreat, she slowly turned to where the noise and light came from. Thirty yards or so in the distance, she spotted a human male. He was sitting alone in the jeep that came to a slow stop as he wiped the sweat from his brow with a red bandana. He held a map in one hand and a flickering flashlight in the other. His smooth pale skin and glowed eerily in the light of the flashlight and his sweat soaked curly blonde hair clung to the sides of his face and neck. She inched closer, sniffing the air as she studied him. His scent, a light musk, was pleasing and seemed familiar to her. His hazel green eyes looked confused as he studied the map he held tightly. He had to be lost; he was twenty miles from any of the roads, deep in the Sehki lion’s pride territory. She could practically taste his fear and frustration it was so thick. She observed quickly that he was no hunter; he had no weapons from what she could see. He was not a threat to her well, other than making her lose her dinner.

Why doesn’t he carry anything to protect himself? He’s a sitting duck, the fool, if I actually liked the taste of human flesh. She shook her head in disbelief thinking this man must have a death wish or he was crazy. Why else would he be out here alone with no protection?

Leonessa inched a bit closer when she felt the presence of two of her sister lionesses as they approached the area. They also spotted the human, whom they would surely kill for sport and food. Finding and killing a human was a prize to her village, a sort of retribution for the human hunters who had killed her kind for sport over the centuries. However, this man was not a hunter and something about him moved her, from his scent to his gentle looking eyes. She acted without thinking of the repercussions as she let out a warning roar to the other lions, making her way to the terrified human who began to wave his flickering flashlight nervously about him in the darkness.

She could hear his heart pounding; smell his fear and sweat as it dripped down his face and chest. He tried to start the jeep, flooding it in his haste. He panicked and cursed as Zabari, despite the warning roar, continued her pursuit of the human, striding curiously closer behind him in the darkness, her tail switching eagerly behind her. Keri, the other lioness, ran off as Leonessa padded in front of the jeep on four powerful legs and roared once more.

Zabari’s focus remained on the human male, but his was now on the large female lion before him. He blinked in disbelief as he noticed something different about this lioness; her eyes were a cool blue color instead of the usually golden eyes of lions. He was unaware of Zabari as she stealthily inched closer behind him. Zabari and Leonessa have never particularly liked one another, but have hunted together many times. She was not thrilled at Leonessa trying to claim what she considered her prize prey. Zabari loved human blood and flesh; it had been a long time since the sweetness of it touched her mouth and she salivated at the thought of tasting it once again. Unlike Leonessa, who never acquired the taste for human flesh, Zabari relished it. Many humans did not travel out this way so she wondered what sort of game Leonessa was trying to play by interfering.

The man sat frozen in terror, eyes wide, unable to move as Leonessa jumped onto the hood of the jeep, looking over his shoulder at the lioness behind him. She let out a roar that seemed to echo in the darkness.

“N…n…nice kitty,” he stammered and swallowed hard. He summoned the courage to look her directly in the eyes; she was beautiful, strong, and proud. From what he knew of lions, they didn’t roar before an attack and he thought it strange that she would do so.

Lance closed his eyes, thinking this his last moment alive but, Leonessa sprang over him as Zabari leaped for her attack. The two lions met in mid air and tussled to the ground, growling and biting. Leonessa bit into Zabari’s left shoulder, her weak spot from an old wound that didn’t quite heal, so she’d get the message. It forced a high-pitched wail from her and she released her hold on Leonessa.

“Go home,” Leonessa growled.

“Ah saw im fohs!”

“Go home Zabari, this human is no hunter, there is no need to kill him,” Leonessa warned with a low growl, pressing her forepaw deeper still into Zabari’s shoulder causing her more pain.

“Ok Leonessa, a de go naw (I am going now)!” She winced. Her golden eyes gave Leonessa a defiant look. Though Leonessa was the pride king’s daughter, she wasn’t untouchable. Yu gbana (difficult) uman (woman), yu will regret this! She fumed to herself.

Leonessa stepped back and let Zabari get up, with one last look at the human; she limped away into the darkness. With Zabari gone, Leonessa turned back to the man who sat in the jeep staring wide-eyed at her. He thought he heard the name Leonessa in the midst of the growling, snarling lions. Of course lions can’t speak, so he put it off as his imagination. The blue-eyed lioness who won the match, turned to face him, blood dripped from her mouth.

“I…I suppose now you’ll eat me,” he whispered to himself. He kicked himself for not bringing a weapon. He been terrified to know there was another lioness behind him. He shivered; his breath shallow and his heartbeat erratic, his pulse was weak and rapid as he closed then opened his eyes in confusion.

Damn, he’s going into shock. Leonessa quickly assessed. He needed treatment, but in her lioness form, that would be impossible. Panting and near exhaustion herself, she moved slowly, cautiously to the side of the jeep and sat down on the cool ground, her front paws stretched lazily before her as she stared at him, willing him to slow his breathing. After a few moments, his breathing slowed and he continued to blink as he stared at the beautiful lioness. He was surprised that she didn’t move to attack him. Was she toying with him in some way or was she actually protecting him? The thoughts in his mind began to fade and the last thing he saw were those hypnotic ocean blue eyes looking up at him before his world turned to darkness.

Leonessa began to shift into human form; the golden fur receded as smooth dark brown skin took its place until she lay on the ground completely naked. The ground beneath her belly and breasts were cool. She stood up slowly, her muscles aching and sore from shifting and dusted herself off, wiping the blood from her mouth and chin. Her dark brown skin glowed in the soft moonlight. She strode quietly to the place where she’d hidden her clothing, khaki pants, black underwear and a white buttoned shirt.

She dressed quickly and returned to the jeep. The man sat slumped in the driver’s side. She touched the man’s face, lifting his head to look at him. His creamy white skin glowed in the moonlight; it was cold and clammy to the touch. He was still in shock and she needed to get him to the hospital right away, so she lifted him, ever so gently, and moved him into the back seat, laying him flat and elevating his legs to restore blood pressure. She loosened his clothing and used water from his canteen to wet his bandana, cooling him. He looked peaceful and handsome to her, as perfect as the Greek and Roman sculptures she’d seen in art books. She’d never seen this man before, yet his scent was unmistakably familiar. After making sure he was stable, she started the jeep effortlessly and drove him to the hospital in Freetown.

The hospital was quiet, the hour being so late. A few nurse’s aides were on staff and only one doctor. She parked his jeep outside and quickly carried him in. She placed him in a small private room she used to sleep in at times when it was too late to travel back to her village. After settling him onto the metal framed bed with a thin mattress, she began to clean him up. She stroked his face, chest and arms gently with a cool, wet cloth. His skin was soft and the cat within her wanted to strip him bare and lick his smooth skin that took on a slight tan in the dim yellowish light of the small room. She fought this feeling of course and prepared his arm for the IV needle, she thought surely he would awaken but he only stirred as she started the flow of the saline drip. She smoothed back his curly hair from his face and studied him. He was indeed beautiful with his eyebrows that were slightly darker than his hair, thick, full, his long lashes, and slightly crooked aquiline nose. She paused at his mouth as she felt a strong urge to kiss his pink hued lips that were slightly fuller on the bottom, but she would never be so forward with a man and had never kissed one before.

Who is this man? She thought to herself as she leaned over him, listening to his heart with her stethoscope.

He stirred and awoke to a warm sensation that seemed to move over his body with purpose. He looked sleepily at the woman leaning over him, her concern for him evident on her face as she listened to his heart and lungs. He moved to touch her, but the IV immobilized him, pulling at his arm. She looked up at him, smiling. He gazed for a moment at the captivating Caribbean blue eyes that stared back at him. Her dark brown skin was a magnificent contrast to her beautiful eyes. Her hair was black and she wore it in a natural afro style, with braids stemming from her forehead and stopping where the afro began, resembling a crown. Her dangling earrings were large and round and shimmered like mother of pearl. Her cheekbones were high and regal and he thought she was the most enchanting and most exotic looking woman he’d ever seen. He wanted to caress her lovely dark skin and hair, kiss her soft full lips, parting them with his tongue. He wanted to hold her, gazing into her lovely eyes as they beheld his.

“Where…where am I?” He finally managed to whisper.
“This is Our Lady of Mercy Hospital in Freetown. I’m Dr. Leonessa Kamara, but you can call me Leonessa if you like,” she smiled at him. It was a smile that warmed him; he was intrigued and felt a stirring in his nether regions. She spoke perfect English and her voice was soothing and calm. She looked too young to be a doctor but then he surmised that she must be an intern or medical student. She wasn’t wearing a lab coat, only a white button down shirt and khaki pants, which showed off her curves and round bottom nicely. She was there alone with him, with no other resident in attendance. Most resident doctors in America would never have given their first name or be caught without a lab coat unless they were a surgeon in scrubs. This country was so very different from his, but if they had doctors who looked like Leonessa, he would be at the hospital everyday!

“Leonessa…that is a beautiful name,” he whispered his voice raspy from dryness. He could have sworn he’d heard that name before, maybe in a dream he thought. He’d been out for hours and yet his eyes locked onto hers in a stare that threatened to lay bare her soul. She looked away quickly placing the stethoscope around her neck and placing her hands nervously inside her pants pocket.

“Tenki, (thank you). I see you are American, would you like me to contact the U.S. Embassy mister….?”

“Lance, Lance Harrold, and no darlin that won’t be necessary,” he gave her a weak but sincere smile.

“Is there anyone we can contact for you, a friend, wife or employer?”

“No, I’ll call my group leader later. Say, how did I get here in the first place?”

“Well Mr. Harrold, you were in shock and passed out when I found you a few miles north of here on my way to the hospital. I brought you here and treated you. You should be fine with some rest and fluids and may leave the hospital tumara, (tomorrow),” She assured him with a slight pat on his arm. He covered her hand with his and his touch vibrated through her body, a feeling she’d never felt before. She pulled away quickly as if his touch had stung her.

Ignoring her reaction, he sighed. “I had the most incredible dream, or maybe it wasn’t, this lioness, I thought she was going to attack me, but she protected me from another lion. She had the most unusual eyes…I could have sworn they were blue….”

“Mr. Harrold,” she interrupted him gently, “you were suffering from shock and dehydration, you were delirious and it isn’t unusual to become confused. I can assure you there are no lions near the area where I found you; they are in Kilimi National Park, a large wildlife reserve. As for a lion with blue eyes, well, I’ve never heard of such a thing. Perhaps you should just rest now. I put your shirt, watch and keys in the chair next to the bed. Your jeep is outside and though it sounds like an interesting dream, if you will excuse me, I have other patients to attend,” she smiled warmly.

“Of course doc, you know speaking of eye color, your eyes sure are pretty if I may say so myself. Do blue eyes run in your family?”

Leonessa blushed and caught her breath before quickly straightening her composure, “tenki, but you really should rest now Mr. Harrold, I will check on you later.” She avoided his question as she couldn’t explain the nature of her eye color to him. The truth is she didn’t know herself. She never experienced any of the local humans asking her directly about them before. Most assumed she was of mixed heritage. Everyone in her village had tawny golden eyes, including both of her parents. Many of the villagers thought their enemies had cursed her, but the wise old crone woman, Panthera, who delivered her, told them that the goddess of waters, Mami Wata, marked her for a special purpose.

“Leonessa?” he called to her softly, his voice barely above a whisper. The sound of her name on his lips hit her hard. She inhaled sharply as tsunami waves of shock and heat slapped through her nerve endings.

Why am I reacting like this? This feeling was new to her and she hadn’t even felt that way about her fiancé. Theirs was an arranged marriage of course, as is their custom and she’d only met him once at the betrothal ceremony a few months ago.

“Yes Mr. Harrold?” She turned briefly to him, her cool composure slowly slipping away.

“Tenki…for saving me Leonessa,” his smile was more confident, knowing.

He was unconscious when I changed, wasn’t he? She wondered. His gaze was unnerving to say the least, but the man had been delirious, even if he saw anything, who would believe him in this condition? Her family has been living for centuries, hidden away from the humans and the hunters of the past hunted them as lions; never knowing they could take human form. Only one human knew of their secret, a registered nurse who worked at the hospital, Olivette. She was Leonessa’s best friend and her sister-in-law, the first and only human allowed to marry into the tribe after she and her younger brother were able to wear their father down.

“Oh…you’re quite welcome. Just…don’t venture out alone again, OK?”
“Ok, I’ll tell you what, how about you be my guide from now then?” he flirted as his hazel green eyes shimmered in the soft afternoon light coming from a nearby window.
“I’m afraid that isn’t possible Mr. Harrold, I’m much too busy. Have a good rest now,” Leonessa smiled and walked quickly toward the door. He was a very handsome man, but there was something in his eyes and his scent, his very voice that caused a deep stirring within her. She’d never reacted this way with anyone, human or shifter. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t been around human white men before, some had even flirted, but she had no interest in them. However, Lance Harrold seemed different. She actually wanted to accept his invitation. What makes this man so special?

CHAPTER TWO

Ten Years ago…

Leonessa held her mother’s hand tightly as they stepped off of the boat, which docked in the lagoon of the Banana Islands, off the North Atlantic coast of Sierra Leone. She breathed in the ocean air deeply and admired the beautiful color of the water and sandy beach. It was her first time away from the Sehki village, which was located in a remote part of Sierra Leone in West Africa. It was a special outing for her and her family and they would be here for a week before returning to the village.

The village and Leonessa’s family were lion shape shifters. Five full blood West African lions, two males and three females, lived in the pride and the females of that pride sometimes hunted with them. All other lions lived within the confines of the Kilimi National Park. Eleven years of civil war from 1991 to 2002 had practically left the county in ruins, save the Sehki village and other shifter villages which were cloaked by magical means and thrived for centuries unspoiled and unaffected by the outside world. Thousands of humans died and millions displaced but many lion tribes felt along with their chiefs that it was not their place to interfere in human affairs. They possessed a few modern things like clothing, shoes, coca-cola, cigars, and radios, but telephone, cell phones, televisions and computers did not exist in the village. They would venture into Freetown and other surrounding towns for such things after the war as they wanted their village to remain hidden from humans. The ability to shift or “go thru the change” as they called it, didn’t usually occur until a child became thirteen years of age and with it their powers or special abilities. Until that time, the children remained safely inside the village.

Leonessa was thrilled to be away from the village, she felt fortunate to accompany her family outside of the village as she had shifted for the first time last year, at the age of ten. She had been terrified. She remembered how her head ached and how she thought she would vomit at any minute, trembling as sweat glistened on her skin.

Her body felt as if something were trying to rip its way out. She twisted and turned on the floor of Panthera’s clay/mud hut. Panthera, the wise witch woman of the village, knew instantly that Leonessa was shifting much too soon. She began to chant immediately to the goddess, walking in a circle around Leonessa. She had not been the first child to shift at such a young age, it happened a few times before with some of the girls, due to the hormones in their bodies and early onset of puberty. However, they did not survive the change and usually died within minutes, stuck in half-animal form. Their bodies burned and their ashes spread among the trees so that humans would not accidentally discover their remains.

As Leonessa writhed feverishly in agony, calling for her mother, Panthera continued her chanting. Leonessa’s mother came running into Panthera’s hut and screamed at the site of her daughter in the throes of shifting on the ground.

“Please, non, mi pickin (my child), NON!”
“Lef (Stop) mi kween, eh yu mus go! Le mi ep una titi (let me help the girl)!” Panthera shouted.

Lenore stopped instantly and stood watching helplessly, silently praying, her tears soaking her rust colored mudcloth blouse. Panthera continued chanting as Leonessa jerked with pain and an ever-increasing body temperature. Her bones and joints shifted and formed new patterns. Her eyes opened and shut frantically as she rolled onto her stomach, her arms and legs no longer human. She opened her mouth to scream only to hear a strangled growl that grew into a roar. A rush of power filled the hut, knocking Panthera and several other women, who’d run in when they heard Leonessa’s screams, to the ground.

Leonessa felt dizzy for a moment; she opened her eyes one last time to see the women staring at her in amazement, their eyes a little wider than usual. Fur swirled about Leonessa’s body; her hands, now paws with sharp claws. She wanted to speak, but couldn’t. She felt confused, scared and frustrated all at once. She knew she would change into her lion form one day, but it wasn’t supposed to happen until her thirteenth year. She shook her now lion shaped head frantically. Leonessa stood before the women a tawny young lioness with blue eyes. The women grew more amazed, yet worried about her eye color even in lioness form. They feared she would not be able to blend in with the other lions, but Panthera didn’t worry, Leonessa would stand out either way, for she was special indeed.

“Yu vos cum soon mi pikin, don worri,” Panthera spoke as she gently rubbed Leonessa’s head.

Lenore, who had been silently praying, fell to her knees giving thanks, “Tenki Mami Wata, tenki.”

Leonessa strode to her mother’s side and licked the salty tears from her cheeks, grateful to be alive. She nuzzled at her mother’s neck as her mother’s smooth brown skin began to give way to her own golden fur, her clothes dropping to her feet. She shifted much to Leonessa’s delight and proceeded to lead her daughter out of the hut for a run around the village proudly showing off the miracle of her daughter’s lion form as other mothers had done before her. Her child, blessed by the goddess, no mother could have been more proud. Gradually, Leonessa learned to control the changes, control her power. She became faster than most in the village. She could also make herself invisible. Her roar was loud enough to wake the dead, literally. The newly dead in most cases, if the body was still warm. No such luck if they’ve been dead a day or so more. Leonessa smiled at the memory of that day now as she watched her father in the lagoon.

Her father, Leondre, was the king of their pride and he stood tall and proud as he surveyed the lagoon with caution. He was a man of few words, thickly muscled, his voice, when he spoke, deep and commanding. All who knew him respected him and he loved his family deeply. Leonessa, his only daughter, had been born in September on the day of the Fall Equinox, healthy and normal in most respects, the only unusual thing about her had been her blue eyes. He thought that surely his wife had been unfaithful till he studied the child and found that she looked exactly like him in every way except for the color of her eyes. She had no other special markings, not even a mole or birthmark. Leonessa developed quickly, speaking clearly and walking before the end of her first year of life. She excelled at everything she did. Her brothers were both impressed and jealous of her at times. Especially in regard to their father, who began to call Leonessa his ‘little jewel’ because of her blue eyes.

Leondre sighed as if satisfied with the lagoon. “Non won is here, so yu ken play fri mi pikins, but don go too fah.” Leonessa immediately let go of her mother’s hand and ran to join her brothers as her father and mother, along with a few of the village men set up camp.

Her older brothers always impressed her with their shifting ability, as a small child, it was a game they would often play with her. Her brothers would dance for her, making silly faces by only changing their faces or their eyes before shifting completely into their animal form. Leonessa was the youngest of three children. The youngest of her brothers, Leokai, was fourteen. The eldest, Leoken, was eighteen. Their mother, Lenore, didn’t expect to have any more children until she conceived Leonessa.

Leoken is the only one whose lion mane was almost as full as their father’s was. Though he was the eldest, he was not the strongest or the fastest of her brothers, but he was certainly the smartest. Often teased by the other children as well as by Leokai, the laughter would soon cease when he out witted them in games of chance.

Leonessa was skilled at hunting and had a natural talent for the healing arts though she was only a child. She became an apprentice of Panthera, working closely with her each day learning the names and uses of each herb, tree, grass, fruit and vegetable. Because of this, the others in the village began to trust her. At one time, the people had been afraid of her, now they practically worshipped her as the living embodiment of Mami Wata. They loved her power for healing and “waking” the newly dead.

Panthera and Leonessa usually stayed busy traveling from their village to other tribes of lion shifters, helping to heal those who were sick; women in labor and sometimes Leonessa would bring back from the dead those who died of sickness at a young age before they could reach them in time. Panthera would not let Leonessa bring back all who died; for some, it was just their time to go. Leonessa didn’t like it, wanting to save everyone, but she trusted Panthera’s wisdom.

Leonessa is engaged to Leonis, the son of a chief from a neighboring tribe of lion shifters since the age of five. It is the way things of things to secure peace among the lion tribes. Her father was king of all the tribes, but each tribe had their own chief and they all reported to King Leondre. Since she had survived her first shift, the excitement of all the tribes grew. Leonis, the best and strongest alpha male lion from the tribes chosen by Leondre to marry his daughter. Leonis won the tournament against all the strongest young male lion tribesmen when he was fifteen and was to wed Leonessa when she turned twenty-one. He is ten years older than she is.

Leonessa chased her brothers along the lagoon and swam in her new one-piece blue swimsuit that her mother bought for her in Freetown. At the edge of the lagoon, Leonessa smelled something unusual. She peered through the tall grass and trees that separated the lagoon from the coastline of the Banana Islands. She saw a young boy around her age building something in the sand. She sniffed the air. His scent was unlike the others in the village and his skin, though tanned, was not dark like she or the others. His curly hair was light and hung wildly past his ears. He was shirtless and barefoot, wearing only olive green shorts. Leonessa became more curious by the second as she inched closer.

“Who’s there?” the boy stood suddenly, he felt as if someone were watching him. He glanced at the trees and grass, he was sure something or someone was there.
Leonessa shrank back and quickly made herself invisible, afraid to answer. She didn’t know if this boy were an enemy or a friend. She watched him in silence, longing to touch his skin, run her fingers through his hair that looked softer than her own with its larger, looser curls, but she dared not leave from where she stood watching silently.
After a few moments of looking about and receiving no reply, the boy went back to building his castle. He soon became bored and decided to explore the nearby trees. He began to climb a low-lying palm tree with great skill, right next to the one from where Leonessa was watching! He sensed movement, but again saw nothing. Leonessa held her breath, her heartbeat faster at being so close to him that she could reach out and touch him. He smelled of water and sand, but not of lion.

He must be a human. Leonessa thought to herself. Her mother and Panthera had told her of humans but she’d never seen a human before and his skin had the most unusual coloring. She thought that surely everyone had the same dark skin as she and the people in her village. This boy was even lighter than her mother, whose light brown skin was lighter than anyone in the tribe was. Still invisible, Leonessa stealthily followed the boy as he climbed higher in the tree. When he stopped short and turned, she nearly lost her balance but held on tightly to the tree.

“I know you’re there, I can hear ya breathing,” he said with a smile. He was even more beautiful when he smiled and to Leonessa’s surprise, she suddenly became visible.
“Kushe (hello),” she laughed. However, the boy was so surprised to see her materialize before him that he fell backwards off the tree with a yell. He landed hard on his left ankle, breaking it before collapsing onto the sand. Leonessa scrambled down the tree as fast as she could and ran to him.

“A beg pardon (I’m sorry), yu OK?” Her blue eyes beamed at him.
“I’m ok…ow, ow…my ankle,” he said suddenly feeling a sharp pain as his hazel green eyes began to well up and big teardrops slipped down his face before he could stop them. He wiped them hastily, he felt afraid, embarrassed, as his ankle throbbed in pain. His father had told him he should never cry, especially not in front of girls. Nevertheless, when he looked into Leonessa’s eyes, his fear suddenly began to subside. She didn’t mock him for crying or look on him with pity, but with compassion. Leonessa stared at his tear-stained face and thought him beautiful with his golden curly locks and green eyes that seemed to sparkle like jewels wet with more tears that welled up and threatened to fall. She immediately turned her attention to his ankle that was beginning to swell and looked somewhat deformed.

“Ah ken ep, yu trus mi?” She gazed at him kindly speaking Krio.

He stiffened at the question not knowing anything about who she was, but something inside him said to trust this strange, magical beauty that lay next to him in the sand. He relaxed a bit.

“Ok, what are ya gonna do?”
“Be still, OK?” She smiled reassuring him.
“Ok.”

She placed his left leg gently across her lap and slipped off his sandal, holding her hands slightly above his leg, she closed her eyes and moved her hands back and forth, scanning his foot and ankle. It was something she watched Panthera do so many times before and begged Panthera to teach her. “Yu brek won bone, but Ah ken fix,” she opened her eyes and beamed at him before quickly setting his ankle back in place with a sharp snap.

“How do you know that…OW!” he yelped, as the pain was worse than when he’d fallen. Leonessa held his ankle firmly as a cooling energy flowed through her small hands, in a few seconds, he felt better and the sharp pain became a dull ache.
“Yu need to stay off it fah a few weks,” She said trying to speak proper English like Panthera was beginning to teach her. She gently touched his foot with two fingers, feeling his pulse, which was strong and steady. She touched his toe and asked if he could feel it. He nodded yes. Leonessa smiled, “ken yu move yu toes?” He winced, but was able to wiggle them. She gazed at him with her biggest smile. He would be just fine.

“Wha…what are ya doing now?” He took a deep breath and exhaled loudly as sweat slid down the sides of his face making him more sticky and hot despite the breeze that blew.

“I’m checking to make sure yu foot is OK. I’m going to look for sumtin to hold yu ankle in place while it heals and sum big sticks to ep yu waka (help you walk). A de kam (I’ll be back), OK?” She informed him before heading back through the tall grass into the lagoon. The boy just nodded, no longer afraid and fully trusting the young beauty that spoke Krio mixed with English. He learned the Krio language from one of the native geologists that worked with his parents, Mustapha Turay. He wished he were more fluent but was happy at the girl’s attempt to communicate despite their accents, his southern and hers Krio.

Leonessa returned a few minutes later with a medium sized bag on her shoulder and a small handmade mudcloth pillow with hand painted cowrie shells on it under her arm. On her head, she balanced a small bucket of clear water. She set the bag and bucket of water down next to him before opening the bag and pulling out a roll of gauzy material. The pillow, which was just big enough to fit, wrapped around his left foot and ankle to support it. She then unrolled the gauzy material around the pillow to hold it in place, tying it securely at the top.

The boy watched in amazement, he’d never seen any girl his age like her. She seemed so grown up and knew exactly what she was doing. She even brought him a bottle of water to drink. She pulled out a small piece of handmade mudcloth, dipping it into the bucket of water and began to wipe his face, chest, arms and legs gently, silently as she had done with the injured and sick in her village. The boy blushed and looked away, allowing her to touch him. After a few moments of awkward silence, he began to feel a slight stirring in his shorts and he quickly and gently brushed her hand away. “I du so (enough).”

Leonessa simply nodded unaware of the effect she was having on him. She had been too preoccupied with bathing him to notice his reaction. She rung the cloth out over the bucket and gracefully folded it over the side to dry.

“Tenki, you are really awesome…for a girl that is,” he blushed slightly making his tanned face more of a reddish brown as he smiled warmly and Leonessa felt that smile down to her toes.

“Yu aw-sum too, fah a bobo (boy),” she giggled, having no clue what he meant, but she assumed it to be a compliment because he smiled again when she said it back to him.

“Wetin yu nem (What is your name)?” He asked shyly as he looked her over. She was such a beautiful girl, he just had to know whom, or rather what she was. His first thought was maybe she was a mermaid or some other magical creature from the ocean because of her eyes.

“A nem Leonessa,” she held out her hand to him smiling sweetly at his attempt to speak her language.

“Mi gladi fo mit yu (I am happy to meet you), A nem Lance. So how did ya…you know, do that thing, up in the tik (tree)? How long were ya watching me?” he grinned with only a slight blush in his cheeks this time. Leonessa blushed, deeply embarrassed.

“Misef gladi fo mit you. (I myself am happy to meet you). A beg pardon, Ah neva see anwon like yu befo, Ah follow yu from de san san (sand) up to de tik. Ah wan be padis (friends).” She paused a moment, suddenly looking very serious. “But Ah can’t tell yu how Ah did it, it’s a secret. If anwon sabi (know), mi famili ken be in big trouble. Do yu promise not to tell wetin yu see mi do?” Her eyes held a hint of sadness and fear and Lance immediately regretted asking. He didn’t want anyone to hurt her and he certainly didn’t want her to be afraid.
“Oh sure, you saved my life after all, so your secret is safe with me,” he winked.

“Tenki, yu wan Ah take yu to yu mama and papa naw?”
“Oh no, I can manage, our camp ain’t too far from here,” he sighed. He didn’t want Leonessa exposed to anyone and thought it best she stay hidden from anyone who could cause trouble for her or her family. Leonessa looked at him and smiled. She seemed to understand his meaning as she said “ok” and helped him to stand. She gave him the two large sticks she cut into a ‘Y’ shape at the top to serve as makeshift crutches. He didn’t care what her secret was and he vowed then and there to keep her secret always. He felt a bond with her, this marvelous and strange young girl who helped him.

They agreed to meet again the next day at the same beach where he’d been playing. Only Lance did not return the next day and Leonessa thought she would never see him again. Therefore, she went back to the lagoon to help her mother and play with her brothers. Nevertheless, on the third day, Leonessa returned to the beach and found Lance sitting in the sand, a white hard splint on his foot propped up on a pair of wooden crutches, waiting for her. Once he spotted her, he waved her over and she ran to him. They played and laughed for hours as Lance taught Leonessa to how to build sand castles. They played hide and seek and Lance always found Leonessa, though she made herself invisible, he could sense her easily. Their difference in their skin color didn’t matter to them and they vowed to be best friends forever. Over the next four days, Leonessa would slip away from her brothers and meet Lance each day in secret, or so they thought. Someone was watching them from a distance, sighing happily; content to watch over the children as they played and saw to it that no one bothered them.

When it was time for Leonessa to return home to her village, she knew she could tell no one of her secret friend, Lance, except for Panthera, whom she truly trusted. Lance hugged Leonessa one last time, holding her close, feeling her heartbeat in rhythm to his own, and secretly vowed to himself to return again one day to make her his wife.

*****

PASSION’S PRIDE: LEONESSA

Meet the Characters of THE BLOOD ROSE

noreply@blogger.com (Mahogany SilverRain) — Fri, 26 Mar 2010 17:08:00 +0000

The Characters of THE BLOOD ROSE

DOMINIQUE ETIENNE LEROY: A day walking vampire, a former slave, now Voodoo Priestess and Vampire Queen of New Orleans. She kills the old queen, gaining her power of mind control and glamour. She was born Lissette Etienne LeRoy, changing it to Dominique in honor of her father, Dominic LeRoy after he died. In addition to being a vampire, she is a psychic telepath with telekinetic abilities. She is biracial, French and Haitian, looks about twenty-five, her skin tone color being 'cafe au lait', with almond shaped eyes that are green, full lips, jet black curly hair that hangs almost to her waist. Eyes are usually a hazel green, turning darker when her fangs appear. Small waist, wide hips, thick legs with slightly slender ankles, full, but not buxom breasts. She looks more human than vampire. She can be cold and illusive when she needs to, using feminine wiles as well as her powers in given situations. She is loyal and commpassionate to those she loves. A mix of dangerous and sexy with a hint of softness.

HENRI TOUSSAINT: Dominique's late husband/master. A French vampire that Dominique is sold to as a young girl. He is six foot three, boyishly handsome with soft features, pale skintone, lean and muscular, with golden blonde hair that hangs to his shoulders. His eyes are an icy blue color like a Siberian husky. His slaves are not property to him, but servants. He treats them well and fairly, never beating them or selling off their family members. He uses the young girls between the ages of fourteen and twenty as blood donors only, not sexually, he just prefers virgin blood. He falls in love with Dominique but their relationship stays platonic until he turns her by accident when she was twenty-five, on the night of a blue moon as she was trying to save him. Though interracial marriage was not legal in the states, he marries Dominique in France and remained her husband for over a century as they traveled throughout Europe and Asia.

ASMODEUS: Henri's best friend and Dominique's silent partner in The Blood Rose nightclub. A three hundred yr old aristocratic French vampire with the powers of seduction and lust. His look is vintage Goth, preferring velvet, lace and high heeled boots. He looks to be in his forties. Handsome with pale skin, steel blue eyes that turn the color of sapphires when he's aroused and a blue flame when he is angry or about to attack. His hair is almost blue/black it’s so dark, curly like Dominique's, falling to his shoulders. His build is naturally slender, not too muscular, though he is very strong. His lips are thin with the bottom one being slightly thicker. His arrogant, obnoxious, smile can seduce women and men into being his willing prey. Only Dominique is immune to this gaze. He can cloak himself so that he is invisible and able to levitate, almost flying with great speed and strength. He lived and traveled with Dominique and Henri when Henri was alive until a fallout with Henri separated them later. Drinking Dominique's blood gives him more power than he imagines and he will stop at nothing to make her his.

JASON LEBLANC: Dominique's Cajun animal guardian and one of her lovers. He works as a bartender at The Blood Rose, creating a specialty drink for the human patrons. The Blood Rose Cocktail, as he calls it, five parts tomato juice, one part lime juice, a splash of Bacardi Limon rum, a dash of celery salt, and four parts Bombay Blue Sapphire Gin served with a celery stick. Jason is a wereleopard or rather because of his dark coat when in cat form, a panther. He has yellow-green eyes that look greener during the day. The irises in his eyes turn to slits when he shifts or is truly sexually aroused. Charming and knows it, but not a player, his heart belongs to Dominique. He’s of average height for a male standing at five foot eleven inches, with the body of a swimmer, slender and muscular. He’s also tanned, staying that way from lying out in the sun during the summer and running shirtless in the fall and winter. His hair is strawberry blond with natural highlights and very curly, which he hates, so he tries to keep it cut short but you can still see the wavy patterns. Through him, Dominique learns why she is so different from the other vampires. Jason gives Dominique his beast, making her his mate and giving her power over the wereleopards, becoming their protector. He doesn't trust Asmodeus but doesn't mind sharing Dominique with Azazel.

AZAZEL/RICHARD MONTAGUE: A half human wizard that Dominique meets online. He is French and Hispanic, thirty-six years old, bald with dark brown eyes, standing at six foot one with a black moustache and a beard he keeps neatly trimmed into a goatee on his chiseled face. He’s masculine, with a thickly muscular body, and a commanding presence. Very strong for a human, even with wizard powers. Richard is bold, always speaking his mind. He can speak both French and Spanish. An accountant who loves baseball, he graduated at the top of his class at the Waleak School of Wizardry. His power has increased to the point that he can wrap it around himself as a shield that sends a shock of electricity to anyone who dares to breach it. His psychic ability is something he and Dominique have in common. To the magical community, he is a powerful pyrokenetic wizard. Azazel is the name given to him by the wizard council when he graduated from wizard school. The only thing he truly fears is being stripped of his powers by the wizard council for some infraction, which he has been threatened with for killing one too many vampires. He is currently on probation for this. He usually provokes a vampire to fight, then he kills them and claims self defense. He is torn by his love for Dominique and his hatred for vampires. He doesn't want to become a vampire, but knows he will have to make a choice if he wants to stay with her.

AANAR: The Asian Vampire Queen of New York City and Dominique's best friend, and female lover. She is multiracial, Chinese/Malaysian and British. She speaks with a British accent and can speak Malay and Mandarin Chinese as well. She designed vampire dating website using a code which only vampires can read to keep out the human wannabes. She also owns several companies and abroad. She rules all of New York City, but stays on the Upper East Side. She has vampire generals governing the various parts like Queens, Harlem, etc. She is a lesbian and her vampire lover is Lisa, an Irish redhead she turned two years ago. She is a seductive sadist to men and women, but prefers to torture men. However, she can be a masochist, but only with Dominique. Short and petite, tiny waist, slender frame, porcelain skin, slightly slanted grey-blue eyes. Small breasts, slender legs, small heart shaped lips. Long, straight, jet black hair to her waist, which she usually wears in a high ponytail. Her style is a blend of vintage Goth and fetish wear of latex, vinyl or leather. Preferring black and purple, she wears high heeled boots. She comes to New Orleans to help Dominique when she becomes a vampire queen. She travels with and is protected by two werewolf bodyguards, Antonio and Joseph.

MALAKAR: Dominique's Vampire General and head bouncer at The Blood Rose club. A very dark skinned vampire; bald, with no facial hair and his eyes are so dark brown they look black as night. His thick neck gives way to broad shoulders and thick muscular arms. His torso is rippled with muscles that look like steel, his waist slender, and his thigh and calf muscles bulge through his pants. He works out six nights a week in the early evenings training his vampire warriors in Aikido, a form of Japanese martial arts, then spends the rest of the night working at The Blood Rose. Though he’s large, he moves with the grace of a gazelle and with the speed of a cheetah, pinning his prey in seconds. He is of the Gazini bloodline of vampires. He intimidates everyone but Dominique and treats her like his little sister. He watches over her and aided her in defeating the former vampire queen. He believes in Dominique and will protect her at all costs.

KAIYANA: The lesbian vampire queen of Mississippi. A smart brown skinned beauty standing at only five foot two, with thick legs, chiseled abs, and smoldering amber colored eyes. She is very sexy with her straight black hair that she wears in an asymmetrical cut that hangs over her right eye and exposes her slender neck in the back. She carries a large whip on her hip. Her bite is intoxicating and addicting to her victims. They don’t resist long if they resist at all initially. All of her victims, once bitten, float in a sea of warmth, and if they survive, their pleasure soon turns to madness. She wants to make Dominique her mate and joins the rank of Dominique's vampire allies.

Available as a paperback, hardcover and e-book and soon to Amazon Kindle.

The second book in the Blood Rose Series is coming soon! So stay tuned to learn more of the vampire Dominique and her circle of friends and lovers!

Blessed Be,

Mahogany SilverRain

RIONA'S LUCK

noreply@blogger.com (Mahogany SilverRain) — Mon, 15 Mar 2010 21:37:00 +0000

My newest E-book release, RIONA'S LUCK, is now available!

Blurb:

Riona Watkins, a sociologist from New York, always had bad luck with love. When her work takes her to Ireland, the birthplace of her mother, she thinks her luck might finally change. But the bad luck continues when she meets Emrys Kane, a mysterious man with piercing green eyes who comes to her rescue when she is harrassed by a male colleague in a local pub. He tells her the meaning of her Celtic name and seems to be very interested in her, but disappears before she can really get to know him! Will she find him again before she leaves Ireland or will her bad luck continue?

EXCERPT:

The Midsummer festival was among the three largest that the Daione Sidhe celebrated. There would be bonfires on every hill, feasting and dancing in honor of St. John, (John the Baptist). A great time for the young males to choose their brides. Throughout history, many chose beautiful mortals, stealing them away, though it had not been so for over a hundred years. Emrys knew his bride would be mortal and she would possess dark eyes and dark hair. Other than that, he didn’t know what exactly she would look like.

“I’m going into the city of Dublin tonight father, a change of pace is in order I think,” he chuckled. Alphonsus grimaced a bit, “Among the mortals? Whatever will ya find there? Nothing but trouble, I tell ya!” He hoped his son would chose among the females in their clan. Perhaps even Bevis, a lovely fae with long golden hair and large eyes, blue as sapphires, she’d grown up with Emrys and the two had once been inseparable. Mortals were bothersome, most of the old ones believed and still honored the fae, but the young ones showed no interest or respect toward their kind.

“Oh let him go husband,” his mother, Avaline, chided, knowing of her son’s true intentions. She too, had seen a vision of her future daughter-in-law. As usual, when his mother interjected, his father conceded. He was a softie at heart when it came to Avaline, his lovely wife, with fiery red hair that matched her temperament.
“Very well then, go with my blessing, but be careful!” His father warned. Emrys smiled at his father with a nod to his mother. Their home was high in the hills, but it would take him no time to reach the city of Dublin.

*****

Riona nursed her pint of Guinness as she finished off the last of her shrimp when she felt a cool wind at her back. She slowly turned around to see where it was coming from. Maybe the door of the pub’s entrance had been opened. But when she looked at the door, it was closed and no one stood at the entrance.

“What’s wrong darlin?” Jackson asked, noting her turn to the door. Riona rolled her eyes again, “first off, I’m not your darlin, ok? Secondly, I just felt a draft, I thought maybe it was from the door.”
“Well e-x-c-u-s-e me, didn’t mean to offend. What? You think there might be a ghost or maybe a little leprechaun lurkin’ about the place?” Jackson teased.
“Shove it Jackson!” She’d had enough of his school boy teasing.
“Well now, that’s the most tempting offer I’ve had all night darlin!” He laughed.
“Jackson, you son of a…” she began, glaring at him.

“Is this person bothering you milady?” A smooth voice said from behind her as she felt once more the cool wind. She turned slowly to see the most beautiful green eyes she’d ever seen gazing quizzically at her. They seemed to pierce right through her. She took a moment to gather her thoughts as she swallowed hard. “Ah…, no, it’s nothing I can’t handle,” she finally managed.
“Aye, by the looks of him, I tend to agree with ya,” he laughed softly.
“Look here, you mind your own business, she’s with me, ok?” Jackson warned.
“And are yer with him, miss…?” he replied, ignoring Jackson, his eyes still focused on Riona.
“Watkins, Riona Watkins. He’s my colleague, nothing more,” she smiled, beginning to blushing under his steady gaze. Riona looked him over; he was gorgeous with his lightly freckled face and his lean build. Wearing a slightly worn green t-shirt and dark blue jeans with a thick, heavily studded black belt, he was a fine figure of a man. But his eyes are what drew her in most. Riona felt they were the most unusual shade of green.

“Riona, what a beautiful name milady. It means royal. I am Emrys, Emrys Kane. Pleased to meet yer acquaintance, milady,” he took her right hand and kissed it, causing Riona to blush. She liked the sound of that as she hadn’t known the meaning of her name; she never bothered to ask her parents either.

Jackson became furious. There was no way this Irishman was going to get into her pants. Not after he’d been trying to get her drunk so he could do just that!
“Like I said, the lady is with me, so back off!” Jackson warned, stepping in front of Riona.
In a flash, Emrys twisted Jackson’s right arm behind his back. Jackson had no time to move.
“I beg to differ, seems the lady speaks the truth, ya best quiet down before I really get rough, aye?”

“Yeah, sure, whatever you say man,” Jackson winced, the pain in his arm throbbing so much, he thought for sure it was broken, his pride and ego bruised. As Emrys released him, the pain in his arm quickly subsided. He sat back on the bar stool embarrassed and angry. He looked around to see if anyone was staring, but to his surprise, it was if nothing had happened. Everyone seemed to be involved their own conversations.

Riona just stood in amazement; it was like time stood still. When Emrys extended his hand, asking her to join him at his table, she nodded yes, curious about this man, grateful he’d done what she wanted to do to the annoying Jackson.
“I’ll just be…here…at the bar, when you’re ready to go back to the hotel,” Jackson called behind them. Riona turned briefly to him and nodded before walking away with Emrys.

Once seated at his table in the dimly lit corner, Emrys smiled warmly at Riona. “I do apologize milady; I’m really not a brute.” Riona laughed as she began to relax a bit. “It’s ok, he was workin my last nerves anyway and besides, I think you only hurt his pride.”
“He did not have the best intention; he was planning to take yer virtue, milady,” Emrys beamed and his eyes seemed to glow. Riona laughed again, she loved his accent and being called “milady”, it made her feel as regal as her name meant. He didn’t have to worry about her “virtue”; she’d lost that during her freshman year at NYU.
“I’m not a virgin, but I had no intention of “giving it up” to him tonight or any night,” she laughed. Her laughter warmed Emrys and stirred something deep inside him. He knew instinctively this was his bride. He wanted to steal her away right this instant but decided against it. She must come to him willingly. He would never force her affections.

“Yer American are ya?” He gave her a genuine smile. He found her to be amusing, beautiful, and very charming.
“Yes, but my mother was born here in Ireland. Kinvara, I think, in…”
“A village in Galway Bay, aye, I know of it. That is very interesting.” He excitedly interjected, but stopped when he noticed the look on her face change and he quickly apologized for cutting her off. He was just glad to know that she was at least part Irish.

“It’s alright, just don’t do that again, I hate being interrupted,” she said, half serious. Just because he was handsome, it didn’t mean she was going to let him completely charm her into anything.
“Duly noted milady,” he nodded. She seemed to possess the feistiness of his mother, a fact that endeared her to him even more. They continued conversing with Riona telling him about her job in New York, her family and why she was here in Ireland. In fact, he let her do most of the talking as he listened intently hanging on her every word, but soon she began to yawn.

“Oh goodness, I’m sorry, but I’m a bit jetlagged, I just flew in late this afternoon. I have a long day tomorrow, so I’m gonna head back to the hotel.”
“May I accompany ya? I will leave straightaway once yer safely inside.” He hated for their time to end, but he planned on staying close. Riona thought for a moment, “No, I need to go back with Jackson, he did escort me and we are at the same hotel, the O’Callaghan. I enjoyed meeting you Emrys and I hope to see you again.”
“Aye milady, that you will,” he smiled eagerly, not bothering to ask which O’Callaghan hotel as there were three of them in town, the closest being the Alexander. He stood up when she did, taking her hand and kissing it once more before he watched her walk back to Jackson. When she turned around to see him once more, he was gone.

Just as well, she thought to herself. Maybe she should have let him walk her back. She had been vague about where she was staying, but she had a feeling even in this large city, he would undoubtedly find her. There was something very mysterious and scary about Emrys, but she wanted to see him again anyway. She wouldn’t make it too easy though, after all, her home was in New York and she had no intention of having a long distance relationship. She shrugged and guided Jackson out of the pub. They walked quietly back to the hotel and Riona was grateful for the silence.

The days passed quickly as she and the team made their way about Dublin concentrating on Parnell and O’Connell streets. Parnell being a working class area where an influx of new cultures emerged. There were several African owned shops and she interviewed many who told her of the racial tensions there, beginning in the early 1990’s. Many of the native Irish resented the migration of other cultures who now claimed Irish citizenship. Many stores were vandalized, but still, the shops remained. Suspicion, fear, jealousy and ignorance prevailed as the area transformed in a multicultural space. Although there were other areas of multicultural influence, Parnell Street has by far the largest African population in Dublin.

Riona visited Conway’s daily in hopes of seeing Emrys again, but she didn’t see him there. After a week passed with no sight of him, she decided to stop looking altogether. She kicked herself for playing too hard to get. Even if it would have just been a fling she had while in Ireland, it was more than she had at home. But what did she do? Drive the poor man away. She had always been unlucky where men were concerned. He wasn’t the first man to show interest, but he was the first to actually hold her attention for longer than five minutes. Emrys struck something deep inside her and she couldn’t shake it or him. She dreamed of him, his voice; his eyes. Every part of her longed for him.

*****

The Blood Rose Book Trailer

noreply@blogger.com (Mahogany SilverRain) — Mon, 08 Mar 2010 19:18:00 +0000

My new promo video for my novel, THE BLOOD ROSE.

Make photo slide shows at www.OneTrueMedia.com

A SLAVE'S HEART

noreply@blogger.com (Mahogany SilverRain) — Sat, 13 Feb 2010 15:43:00 +0000

In honor of Valentine's Day and Black History month, I've written a historical short erotic story called A Slave's Heart. Click on the picture for link to free download. Only free for the month of Ferbruary so catch it while you can!

Blurb:

Captain William James is a private slave trader from Britain. He has transported many Africans from the West African coastline to work in the sugar plantations of Barbados and Jamaica. That is until he meets Sirene, a West African priestess of Oshun whose drum walk (dance) calls to him one cool summer night. He is enchanted by her beauty and strength as he watches her dance. Can she capture his heart and free his mind of ignorance and prejudice?

Excerpt:

The captain was filled with anticipation as he set anchor off the coast of West Africa, near Senegal. The sounds of the waves below crashing eagerly against the ship always thrilled him. The night wind cool upon his face as he began to shout orders to the crew. This was not his first trip to Africa and he liked the feel of this particular coastline. During the day, the blue of the water would be like crystal against the white hot sand of the beach. At first light, he and the crew would descend upon the island, piercing its dense tropical foliage in search of cargo to bring back to the Americas. Some would be taken to St. Kitts, (St. Christopher), Barbados where a British colony had been established by British settlers. It was also the home of the captain, William James. Ever since parliament gave permission to private traders in 1698, Captain James had been one of the first to seek his fortune as such. He acquired a lot of money and built a fine house in the British colony on Barbados. He owned several slaves as well as a sugar plantation. He hired overseers to run the place while he was away collecting more slaves. He wasn’t married and though a few women had caught his eye, he thought them to be too weak. Many of the settler’s wives wilted under the island’s heat. Their fancy attire was ill suited to this area and many suffered from heat stroke. Only the heavier, older wives seem to be strong enough to withstand the island itself.

A perfect setting for hunting, He thought to himself of the beautiful island around him. He boasted himself to be the greatest of hunters, only his prey were human, but not in his eyes. The last couple of trips had been easy. He’d met with the chief of a tribe he encountered who’d sold him a quarter of his tribe and led him and his men to a neighboring rival tribe where the captain secured even more slaves, mostly women and older children from an unprotected village; the babies were of no use to him and unfortunately, the men had all gone to hunt.

As the captain leaned against the side of the ship on the upper deck, he stared out into the darkness of the shoreline. He began to see flickering lights and hear sounds of drumming and something else he couldn’t quite make out in the distance. A curious look spread over him.

“What is it Cap’n?” a crew member spoke loudly breaking the captain’s concentration.

“Well don’t you hear it, the music?” William replied.

“No sir, just the sounds of yer crew below.”

“But surely you hear it man? It grows louder by the second!”

The confused crew member shook his head and wondered what has gotten into Captain James. The captain gave orders for a search party to accompany him to the island to investigate this “music” he heard, though no one seemed to hear it but the captain.

****

“An ancestor has returned to us! A woman-child is born!” An elderly woman proclaims to the villagers who have gathered around the hut of a woman who has just given birth. Everyone shouts in praise of the new mother and father, thanking the ancestors for the safe delivery of this child. While the mother and child rest, the villagers begin preparations for the feasting and celebration of such an event.

Sirene, a young unmarried woman, stands topless wearing a skirt among the crowd ecstatic with the news. When she marries, then her breasts will be covered. A young green mamba snake is wrapped around her wrist and forearm like a bracelet. Tonight, she will do her drum walk as part of the dancing that will take place in honor of the child born today. A yellow gele is wrapped around her head, a head cloth tied with precision; signifying her status as an honorable member of her age-grade group. Her family included her mother, younger sister and grandmother. The only male member being her mother’s brother, as her father had been captured by the white men who came on ships, stealing away those who lingered alone too long near the shore.

It had been two years since her rite of passage. During this rite, she joined a group of girls her age taken aside by the older women, into a hut built for this purpose. It was isolated to ensure privacy. There the older women washed her in river water and leaves of a certain herb.

She received lectures on reproduction and the ways of women. She passed her tests, learning to balance a jug on her head, weaving a sacred cloth, using a knife and creating a song. She also faced her fears of the dark and being alone. She learned to defend herself. A beaded string was tied around her waist to ensure her fertility, which she still wore even now. Her black long curly hair was braided around her head as “secrets” of the Goddess Oshun were placed in tufts of her hair. She also remembered the pain in her pelvis as the “red rains” came for the first time. Her family would handle her marriage, observing formalities and haggling over bride price. But to this day, none of the warriors had come forward as a would-be groom.

Her mother and grandmother had been proud of how well Sirene had passed her tests and how beautifully she danced her drum walk, her gestures with her honey colored eyes and her hands gracefully moving to attract the attention of the young warriors. Many were attracted, but none gathered at her uncle’s hut to discuss marriage. Neither her mother nor grandmother understood why. Her grandmother believed that perhaps Sirene had a larger purpose and was gifted by Oshun herself in the ways of magic. When her uncle suggested Sirene become a second wife, her grandmother absolutely refused saying that Sirene was special and didn’t need to share her husband with anyone.

Everyone in the village had begun to treat her as a “virgin priestess” and she was honored as such. She was invited to dance at every event, be it marriage, birth, or death. She continued to live with her mother and grandmother. She was the last of her age group of girls, one had been married a few moons ago and one had just given birth. Her happiness for them was tinged with a bit of sadness for own lack of a husband or child.

That night, she prepared herself. She bathed in flowers and scented herbs. She made a skirt with strips of yellow cloth and sewed cowrie shells on them to move and sound when she danced. She placed a long string of yellow beads around her neck that hung between her pert breasts with its dark full nipples. Lots of bracelets hung on her wrists. Her snake, Nambe, a green mamba, slithered in a basket near her. She usually carried Nambe on her like jewelry on either her arm or neck and though poisonous, it was not as dangerous as the black mamba. She was the envy of her girls group as she was the only one who dared to befriend and keep the snake, but little did they know that the snake had come to her helping her overcome her fear of them and the darkness. She took off her gele and unbraided her hair which hung past her shoulders. She placed yellow flowers in her hair and rubbed coconut oil on her skin. She was finally ready and left her hut to join in the feasting and celebration.

The light of the bond fire burned bright and Sirene’s skin was luminous as she danced barefoot around it. A string of cowrie shells hung around her ankle, matching the sound that came from the beads and cowrie shells around her waist. Her eyes took on an eerie glow as she moved rhythmically to the drums. Her grandmother knew instinctively that her grandchild was calling her mate this very night; it was no longer the dance of just honoring the woman-child. Her grandmother stood and along with Sirene’s mother began to dance along with her to ensure this man, whoever he was, would answer the call.

WINTER'S KISS

noreply@blogger.com (Mahogany SilverRain) — Tue, 19 Jan 2010 21:14:00 +0000

My free erotic short story for January, Winter's Kiss is now available for download! Catch it before January ends!

Click on the cover for the direct link.

Excerpt:

Joseph Blackhorse doesn't trust humans. He and his tribe of animal shape shifting shamans are known as "The Shadow People" among the Crow and Arapaho tribes. They are hunted by the government who seek to use their power and magic for it's own means. Unable to hide any longer among the Crow tribe in Montana, they seek a new home in Wyoming. When the worst blizzard Wyoming has seen in years hits, they take refuge inside a national park. There they encounter Kendra Jones, a black park ranger who looks after the bison that are legally protected from hunters. When Kendra discovers their secret, can Joseph trust her to keep his tribe safe?

IMANI'S GIFT

noreply@blogger.com (Mahogany SilverRain) — Sun, 06 Dec 2009 19:17:00 +0000

Flustered at being tardy to a guest lecture, she quickly gathered her notebook and purse before slamming the car door shut. Of all the days to be late. As a grad student in her last year, she’d never been late before and this was a lecture she didn’t want to miss. Imani Aliyah walked frantically down the hall as her thick two inch heels clacked loudly on the marble floor. She cursed under her breath for insisting on having waiting for her chai latte from Starbucks on the way. The drive thru line had been long and she’d wanted a chai so badly, now she was five minutes late and these types of lectures almost always started on time.

Dr. Isaak Silverman was giving a lecture on Ethiopian Jews and their journey to Israel. He is also going to cover the history and lineage of the Ethiopian Jews. Dr. Silverman, a noted professor, anthropologist and speaker, works for the IAEJ, (Israel Association for Ethiopian Jews). This organization was established in Israel to work exclusively in advocating for the full and rapid integration of Ethiopian Jews into mainstream Israeli society.

Imani, whose father is an Ethiopian Jew, and part of the Kessim, the Ethiopian rabbis of their small local community in Atlanta, reached the lecture hall in two minutes from the student parking lot on the other side of the campus and in heels no less. She opened the doors and stepped in. To her surprise, the room was only half filled. When the door slammed shut behind her, everyone turned around to see what the commotion was. Imani felt her face burn with embarrassment as Dr. Silverman looked directly at her.
“Ah, sorry, sir,” she mumbled as she picked the closest seat to her and sat down.
“That’s quite alright Miss….” Dr. Silverman smiled at her. He’d noticed her even before the door slammed. A tall, slender brown skinned woman in an elegant navy linen suit with a gold colored blouse that seemed to match her tawny golden eyes. They were so familiar, she drew his attention immediately.
“Aliyah…Imani Aliyah sir,” she spoke up nervously.
There were a few murmurs and whispers as she settled into her seat with her chai latte in hand, notebook on her lap.
“Aliyah, that’s Hebrew, isn’t it?” he smiled. For a moment it seemed they were the only two people in the room.
“Yes, my father is from Ethiopia, he is also Jewish,” Imani beamed, proud of her heritage. Her mother was a Polish Jew born in New York City. Her unusual eye color came from her grandma on her father’s side.
“Ah, then you have a personal interest in my lecture. Would you like to sit closer? I’m sure no one will mind.”
Imani paused a moment, she didn’t want to draw any more attention to herself than she already had. With deep sigh, she decided to accept his offer. She stood gracefully gathering her things and walked to the front of the room, taking a seat on the half empty front row.
Dr. Silverman continued his lecture after Imani was settled in her new seat. He was tall, medium build with salt and pepper hair. Though in his mid forties, he looked to be in his early thirties. He’d been a keynote speaker for last five years and a strong advocate for Ethiopian Jews in
Israel for fifteen years. Every time he looked Imani’s way, she held his gaze, loving the honey brown color of his eyes.

He spoke eloquently and passionately about Ethiopia and Israel. He was born in a suburb of New York to Jewish parents and his maternal grandparents had died during the holocaust. Both of his parents died in a car accident ten years ago. He’d never married, his focus always being on his work.
Imani listened intently as Dr. Silverman spoke of the history of the Ethiopian Jews. Because there are no historical data or written records only oral traditions, there are three possibilities of how the Jews came to Ethiopia. One, the Ethiopian Jews is the descendants of the lost ancient Israelite tribe of Dan. Secondly, they may be the descendants of Menelik I, the fabled son of King Solomon and the Queen of Sheba, as set down in the folkloric, biblical and aggadic Ethiopian Kebra Negast. Thirdly, they might be descendants of Jews who left Israel for Egypt following the destruction of the First Temple in 586 BCE.
His personal belief is the third possibility; he believed the Queen of Sheba had been Ethiopian and that she had a son with King Solomon. Isaak loved the people he worked with both in Israel and Ethiopia. He helped many to find housing, learn Hebrew and assimilate into life in an industrialized society after coming from a rural one.

When the lecture ended, Imani purposely stayed behind to speak with Dr. Silverman. She wanted to know more about him, picking his brain. She was also attracted to him, his warm smile, his voice and his passion for his work.
Isaak had hoped Imani would stay behind. He wanted to ask her to stay but wasn’t really sure how to go about it. He wanted to know more about her. Only one woman had captured his heart once, but she’d died years ago.
“Aliyah, you aren’t related to Obadiah Aliyah, are you?” He asked curiously.
“Ah yes, he is my father.”
Isaak couldn’t believe his luck!
“I thought your last name sounded familiar. I’m headed to his house this evening for dinner, will you be joining us?”
Imani laughed sweetly. Her father asked her to come to dinner tonight that he had a gift for her, but he mentioned nothing about a guest. Now she really wondered what her father was up to.
“Yes, I will be there.” Imani’s eyes lit up.
“Good, I’m going to be here for two weeks and your father kindly offered for me to celebrate Hanukkah with him and his family.”
Imani’s heart skipped a beat; this gorgeous man was going to be in her father’s home for the next eight nights of Hanukkah! Her father had never allowed anyone to stay before and she wondered what made Dr. Silverman so special. They began to walk to the staff parking lot.
“That’s very interesting, he’s never mentioned you, and how do you know my father?”
“We met in the 80’s in Ethiopia, when several Ethiopian were trying to cross the Sudan, making their way to Israel. I convinced his family that it was not safe to go that way and I promised to make other arrangements. His family waited and made it safely to Israel due to Operation Moses in 1984. I only wished my girlfriend’s family had waited.” The deep sadness in his eyes made Imani want to hug him.
“Your girlfriend was a refugee?”
“Yes, her father insisted they go by foot. About 4,000 people, including my girlfriend, perished during the journey.”
“I’m sorry, Dr. Silverman, you must have really loved her.” Imani brushed his arm.
“Please, call me Isaak and yes, we were to be married in Israel.”

Imani could stand it no longer; she pulled him to her and hugged him. He smelled of soap and Old Spice aftershave. She nuzzled his face and neck with her cheek.
The hug caught him by surprise, but what surprised him even more was his reaction. He dropped his briefcase and held her. She was warm and soft as he held her tightly. He leaned into her, feeling the curve of her body against his. The sweet smell of her short black curly hair and the softness of her skin stirred things low in his body. She made a sound that sounded almost like a purr.
If she’d had the strict Jewish upbringing like he did, she would know that what they were doing at this moment is wrong. He didn’t care, but he didn’t want her to regret it. He pulled away suddenly.
“I’m sorry; I don’t know what came over me. You are a respectable woman and I …”
“Shhh,” Imani pressed her index finger to his lips. Her eyes glowed like a cat’s eyes in the darkness.
“It’s alright, “she whispered.
Isaak blinked to make sure he wasn’t seeing things. He took a step back and jumped when Imani’s cell phone went off.
“It’s my dad, we better get going.”
Isaak picked up his briefcase and sighed heavily. There is something about her that unnerved him a bit, yet he felt drawn to her even more.
“Do you know the way or do you need to follow me? I’m parked in the student parking lot.” Imani said after telling her dad she was on her way.
“Why don’t I give you a ride to your car and then I’ll follow you?” Isaak smiled.
“Works for me,” Imani laughed.

****

For the full story go to: http://www.lulu.com/content/e-book/imanis-gift/8035955

Blessings and Happy HanukkahSolticeChristmasKwanzaa!

Mahogany

SAKE AND PUMPKIN PIE

noreply@blogger.com (Mahogany SilverRain) — Mon, 09 Nov 2009 23:31:00 +0000

She closed her eyes while laying her head back against the pillow on the bed in what was once her bedroom as a child. She hugged her favorite stuffed animal to her chest, a red fox with a large fluffy tail named Kit. Her father had given it to her when he came back from a tour of duty in Japan. She was sorry she’d left Kit here in her parent’s home and vowed to take him with her when she went back to her home.
She was grateful to get away from the noisy crowd that was her family just beyond the bedroom door. Thanksgiving holidays or any holidays for that matter, were always hectic, especially with her family. She loved them but after being on her own, she'd grown accustomed to the peace and quiet so locking herself in her old bedroom gave her some respite. She was the eldest of ten children and still the only one of the grown children that still remained unmarried and childless. At thirty-eight years old, her parents didn’t seem to care that she’d graduated in the top ten from M.I.T. or that she was currently an integral part of their CSBi,(Computational and Systems Biology), program. They also didn’t seem to understand the importance of bioengineering. She, along with the staff and students in the cancer biology research department were making great strides in combating this killer disease. The only concern her parents seemed to have was that she wasn’t married and her biological clock was ticking away.
"Having a career is great, but having love in your life is just as important", her mother advised.

Myra sighed and rubbed her throbbing temples. She couldn’t win an argument with them. Living and working in Cambridge, Massachusetts, she dreaded coming home to her quiet little hometown in Georgia where her parents, Robert and Margaret Watson, a retired military officer who was now a civil service worker and a housewife, raised her and her siblings. Although she loved growing up in a small town, she hated the small town mentality. Her siblings all stayed there, going to college locally, with the exception of Leonard, who went to college in Atlanta, but she had been the only one to leave Georgia. She’d always felt that she must have been adopted or something. Her parents were so open minded and loving that she couldn’t understand why they had accepted her brother Leonard's male partner of three years but not her decision not to marry or have kids.
Myra was strictly heterosexual but after having her heart broken by a man she loved in college, she’d stopped dating and almost quit school. Roger White was a brilliant young black neurosurgeon, they had been serious and he’d asked to marry her. She nearly jumped at the chance but something held her back. He was quite handsome and charming, a bit too charming as she found out one day after returning to her dorm to find him in bed with her roommate. When she asked him why, his answer had been that he was a man and clearly he couldn’t be wrong for being attracted to beautiful women. Besides, he added, her roommate is only a woman he would fuck, not marry. Myra on the other hand, with her ordinary looks and bright mind was better suited to being a wife, but not sexy enough or good enough in bed to be someone he would fuck on a daily basis. Therefore, he would need to find women like her roommate occasionally to fulfill his sexual needs.
Her roommate, being totally insulted, jumped from the bed and ran to the bathroom in tears. Myra was embarrassed and shocked beyond belief, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry, so she told the surgeon to get lost and never spoke to him again. She eventually forgave her roommate but still felt the sting of the doctor’s words. She never dated again and after deciding that success would be the best revenge, she stayed in school and became one of the best in her field. She also decided that marriage and children were just not for her. She couldn’t bear the thought of being a wife to a cheating husband. Maybe not every good looking man thought the same as that surgeon, but she wouldn’t take the risk in finding out.
Myra knew she didn’t have the supermodel looks of her younger sisters and brothers, another reason she felt she’d been adopted. Her parents were both African- American, her father a handsome dark skinned man with strong features and her mother a beautiful light skinned woman with delicate features and cat like hazel green eyes. All of her siblings were tall, slender with delicate features while she was shorter and slightly heavier having worn a size fourteen for as long as she could remember. However, she was the only one with her mother’s hazel green eyes. Her skin was a smooth cocoa brown color and she kept her black hair in a soft short natural afro.
Myra loved her job and could talk about cancer research and bioengineering all day but when she came home to her family, her siblings and their spouses and children, her world was just as foreign to them as theirs was to her. She was closest to her thirty-six old brother Leonard, who took after their mother with his light skin and wavy hair, worked as a pharmacist at the one of the local Walgreens drug stores. He was the only one who seemed to get her, often going to bat for her with their parents.
She’d known since they were kids that he was gay as he would often dress up in her clothing. It didn’t matter to her or the family, they all loved Leonard. Leonard arrived late for Thanksgiving dinner this year, his boyfriend of three years, Gregory, a handsome white dramatic arts teacher at the local high school, in tow along with another man that no one in the family knew or had seen before. They brought a third man with them. As soon as Myra heard her brother’s voice downstairs, she ran out to greet him.

“Lenny!” she yelled, giving him the biggest hug.
“Well I’m glad someone is happy to see me! How you been stranger?” he laughed he kissed Myra’s cheek.
“Who you calling a stranger? It’s only been a few months since you saw me last,” she laughed.
“More like a year girl and I see you still workin that fro! You need to come home more often so I can at least fix your hair!” he teased.
“Boy quit, ain’t nothing wrong with my hair, it’s just fine!”
After releasing Leonard, she hugged Gregory next and complimented his new haircut.
“Oh girl, please don’t tell him he looks good, his head is big enough as it is!” Leonard beamed.
Gregory elbowed Leonard, “oh don’t listen to him, you can tell me how good I look anytime and I think your hair is fierce!”
The third man could only smile as he watched this beautiful brown skinned woman laugh and joke with her brother and Gregory. He agreed, Myra’s hair was as lovely as she was. Leonard spoke of her often to him, but his description of Myra didn’t do her justice. He noticed the way her eyes sparkled, the smoothness and flawless look of her skin, her tight fitting plum sweater that accentuated her full breasts and the black leather skirt that fit her curves and round bottom as if they were a second skin. He was definitely glad he’d accepted Leonard’s invitation to Thanksgiving dinner with his family.
Myra pretended not to notice the handsome Asian man, but she immediately honed in on his bright smile and his slanted light golden brown eyes as he watched her. Are they contacts? Most Asian men didn’t have eyes like that and she surmised that he was of mixed heritage. Either way, she found herself drawn to him, but wait, what if he is gay too? Being a friend of her brother’s and he wasn’t here with a female but then he wasn’t here with another man either. Maybe he was single. She decided to put it out of her mind, after all even if the man was straight, why would he be interested in her?
“Hey sis, I’d like you to meet a good friend of mine, we went to college together in Atlanta. I ran into him last weekend and convinced him to come down since his family went to Japan for the holidays. This is Kentaro Nakamura. Ken, this is my beautiful sister, Myra,” Leonard said proudly.
“Oh stop Lenny,” Myra chastised as she reached out her hand to Kentaro.
“Beautiful indeed, nice to finally meet you Myra, I’ve heard so much about you,” Kentaro shook her hand with a slight bow.
“All good I hope,” Myra blushed. His hand was warm and his handshake firm. He placed his other hand on top of her hand, cradling it as if it were a delicate object he adored. He sniffed her hand like a cat and rubbed it against his face.
Myra swallowed hard at his reaction to her and felt a heat rise from her nether regions to the top of her head. He smelled of musk and it was sweet to her. His eyes held her in a gaze that made her want to melt into him. She wanted to kiss him, touch him and explore his lithe body from head to toe, although she had no idea why there was such a strong attraction to him. His medium length jet black hair was pulled into a pony tail. His black sweater did little to hide his lean and muscular shoulders and arms. Myra wondered if his skin felt as smooth as it looked. She also noticed the bulge between his legs thanks to the tightness of his black jeans. Something he didn’t try to hide nor did he seem embarrassed by it.

Leonard and Gregory noticed the reaction between Myra and Kentaro and winked at each other. Leonard wanted them to hit it off. From the moment he ran into Kentaro in Atlanta and found out he was a biochemist, something that was right up Myra’s alley, he knew they would be perfect for each other. It also didn’t hurt that he was attractive, well spoken and well dressed.
“Hey Ma, we brought my famous pumpkin pies!” Leonard shouted.
“Boy you know I been waitin’ for them pies! Get on in here!” Margaret called from the kitchen as Leonard and Gregory headed into see his mother.
“Lenny…” Myra began not wanting to really be alone with Kentaro. She was unsure why she felt so drawn to him, something about his eyes seemed so familiar to her and yet, she’d never met him.
“I’ll be back, don’t worry, why don’t you keep Ken here company while I put my pies in the kitchen and talk to Ma. Give him a tour of the house or something,” Leonard grinned devilishly.
Myra groaned to herself realizing she’d been set up. She’d been set up before with disastrous results, usually the guy losing interest once they met face to face and yet, Kentaro seemed to still be interested.
She gingerly pulled her hand away from Kentaro, who was a bit reluctant to let go, smoothing out her sweater and skirt trying to calm her body down. Kentaro made her nervous and excited at the same time.
“I c…could show you around the house, if you’d like”, she smiled feeling awkward as she tried to keep it together.
“I would like that,” Kentaro beamed at her. The scent of her sex was becoming heavier with every second and it lingered in the air like perfume to his nostrils. He was having a hard time keeping his own body and animal instincts under control. He knew she was nervous and wanted her to feel at ease. He followed behind her silently as her nieces and nephews rushed past them playing a game of tag. He enjoyed the way she moved and the way her hips swayed when she walked. She was the loveliest of creatures to him. He’d been searching for his life mate for some time now and Myra was the one. If only he could convince her of that.

When they walked into her old bedroom, Kentaro was surprised but very pleased to see the stuffed red fox on her bed as well as the various pictures and figurines of foxes all around the room on the walls and on the book shelf.
“I take it you like foxes?”
“Oh, um yeah, they are my favorite animal, always have been,” Myra suddenly felt embarrassed and didn’t know why. After all, this was only her childhood bedroom.
However, she had more fox figurines and even another stuffed fox at her apartment in Cambridge as well.
Noting his interest, Myra shared with enthusiasm her love of foxes and when it began. One of her favorite Disney movies as a child was “The Fox and The Hound”. She liked how foxes were territorial, monogamous creatures, predators, but not of humans and the foxes in Europe and Asia are larger than the ones in North America. Plus her father had told her of the ‘Kitsune’, a fox spirit in Japan folklore when he returned from a year in Okinawa. They were believed to be intelligent beings possessing magical abilities that increase with their age and wisdom. They could also take on a human form and were also known for their tricky behavior. Kentaro was impressed that Myra knew so much about this.
She had a collection of these stories on her shelves and her favorite was about a Kitsune that fell in love with a human and married her. She became truly enamored with foxes because of these Kitsune, wishing they were indeed real. The more she talked, the more she realized that she may be talking too much or worse, boring poor Kentaro with her childhood obsession. But Kentaro gave her a knowing smile as he listened intently. He knew of every story she spoke about. More and more, he knew this was the woman for him.
“Have you ever pictured yourself as one?” his eyebrow slightly raised as he came very close to her.
“Being a Kitsune? Well yes, as a child I did, but you know, childhood fancy and all…” Myra laughed nervously. Why was he asking her about this? Did he like foxes too?
She was uneasy being this close to him. Didn’t he realize he was in her personal space? She could easily kiss him right now. He was so close she felt his breath on her face. He was taller than she at five foot nine and Myra being only five foot four. She looked into his eyes, his pupils looked vertical, almost cat like. His iris changed to a more yellow color, like eyes she had seen before. She blinked, thinking her mind was playing tricks on her. Was it her imagination or did Kentaro have eyes like a fox?
“Something wrong Myra?” Kentaro leaned closer, pinning her against her bedroom door, his arms on either side of her. His scent overwhelmed her.
“Ah nothing, I…I just thought I saw…” she stammered.
“Saw what?” he whispered as he nuzzled her neck and kissed her earlobe.
Myra swallowed hard as Kentaro made his way to her mouth for a kiss.

A hard knock on the door made Myra jump as Kentaro quickly pushed her behind him, his eyes narrowed, body poised and muscles flexed to strike whatever danger lie behind the door.
“Hey Myra, everyone is at the table, it’s time to eat!” Her younger sister, Elizabeth called. She’d seen Myra go into her old bedroom with the handsome Asian man that Leonard had brought home. She was upset that Leonard hadn’t even bothered to introduce the man to her, plus she liked to annoy Myra.
“Ok, be down in a minute!” Myra yelled her mind racing. She felt confused and disoriented. What just happened?
Kentaro eased his body and turned silently to face Myra, a smile on his face.
“I guess we…we better go down for dinner,” Myra felt her heart beating much faster than usual.
“Are you alright?” Kentaro cocked his head to the side with a look of genuine concern.
What is going on with me? Myra thought surely she was losing it. She looked into his eyes again to find them perfectly normal and light golden brown.
“Ah yeah, I’m fine,” she shrugged and turned around to face the door. She took a deep breath and blew it out. She opened the door and Kentaro followed her down to the dining room with a mischievous smile on his face.
All through dinner, everyone noticed how Kentaro only had eyes for Myra. Though he joined in the conversation with the others, his main focus was Myra. Myra felt the heat of his gaze and tried her best to ignore it. After dinner, Myra snuck out to the guest house while Kentaro was talking to Leonard over coffee and a slice of pumpkin pie in the living room.
As soon as she walked outside, the brisk wind made her shiver and she cursed to herself for not grabbing her jacket before coming outside. She opened the door to the guest house and turned on the light. It was warm and she quickly closed and locked the door with a sigh of relief.
“Hiding out are we?” a voice behind her said.

Myra jumped and turned around quickly to see Kentaro sitting on the couch. On the coffee table in front of him was a slice of pumpkin pie, a white ceramic bottle and two small matching ceramic cups with Japanese writing on them.
“Uh no! Kentaro you scared me! What… what are you doing in here anyway? I could have sworn I just saw you talking to Lenny…” Myra finally gasped after a few seconds.
“I’m sorry to have startled you Myra, I thought maybe you would like to share some Sake and pumpkin pie with me,” Kentaro grinned ignoring her question.
Myra would have laughed at the way he pronounced ‘pumpkin’ with his heavy accent if she hadn’t been so rattled.
“How did you know I was coming here?”
“I didn’t, but figured you wanted to be away from everyone and what better place than here?”
“What, are you stalking me now?” Myra suddenly felt upset. She’d had quite enough of being nervous and acting like a teenager with a crush and now his being here, waiting for her, as if he knew her, knew what she wanted, it unnerved her even more.
Kentaro stood up and in flash, he was at her side.
“I didn’t mean to upset you or offend you. I apologize. I’m just very attracted to you. Please, forgive my boldness.” Kentaro smiled sweetly and bowed.
Myra didn’t know whether she should punch him or kiss him. She was amazed at how quickly he seemed to move and wasn’t quite sure what to say. There was certainly something mysterious about Kentaro. Everything in her was dying to know more about him, but at the same time, it frightened her.
“It’s alright I guess. I’m just not used to anyone paying me this much attention. I’m not beautiful or skinny like my sisters.” She said after a few awkward moments.
Kentaro suddenly looked serious. “You mean no one has ever told you how beautiful you are?”
“No, just my family, but even they tease me sometimes about my weight.”
“Well then everyone else is either blind or a fool. I happen to like a woman with curves,” he whispered so close to her that she felt his breath again lightly on her face, his musky scent overwhelming her once more. It had to be pheromones, musk cologne never smelled this good. She swallowed hard and eased back from him, walking toward the couch.
“You’ve only brought one piece of pie, don’t you want any?”
Kentaro laughed and the sound of his laughter echoed in her ears.
“I’m going to share this piece with you,” he smiled.
“Oh? And what if I wanted my own piece thank you?” Myra sat on the couch.
“Then I won’t touch it, it will be all yours and I’ll get another piece for myself,” his voice softened as he slowly made his way to her, sitting down next to her.
“Ok, well…I don’t mind sharing since you did bring it out here for me. Ah, what did you say was in the bottle again?” she asked with coy smile, directing his attention to the coffee table.
“Ah yes, this is Sake, a Japanese rice wine. You drink it warm, perfect for cold weather outside. Would you like a taste?”
“Yes, please.”
Kentaro poured some in one of the small cups and handed it to her.
“The cup is so small for wine.”
“It is not like wine from grapes, it’s much stronger,” he laughed.
Myra smelled it and took a sip. It was warm and strong. She coughed and gasped as it burned the back of her throat. It was sweet, not bitter, with a nice after taste, once she stopped coughing. Kentaro laughed again but stopped when she looked up at him.
“You find me almost choking funny?” she said, looking defiant.
“Yes, I mean, you weren’t really choking and your reaction was funny, but I am not making fun of you, I promise.”
“Uh huh, sure.”
This time they both laughed and Kentaro took the fork and cut into the piece of pie, lifting the tasty morsel to Myra’s lips and fed her. The pie melted in her mouth. She loved Lenny’s pie it was always moist and smooth, sweet, with just the right hint of spice.
Kentaro watched lustfully as Myra chewed and swallowed and when she licked her full lips, he couldn’t stand it any longer. He wanted to kiss the lips that looked so soft, sweet and inviting like the piece of pie she just ate.
“Lucky piece of pie,” he smiled boldly leaning closer to her.
Before she realized it, Myra leaned in the rest of the way and kissed Kentaro. He pulled her in tasting her, probing her mouth with his tongue. She tasted of pumpkin pie and Sake, sweet, yet tart with hints of cinnamon, allspice and nutmeg. After a few moments, he pulled back and Myra stared into his eyes. Once again she saw the eyes of a fox.
“What are you?” She asked breathlessly.
“I am Kitsune, or as you might say, a fox.”
Myra couldn’t believe her ears! She jerked back in fear and disbelief. She thought maybe the Sake was getting to her.
“Are you serious?” Now she really thought he was mocking her.
“I’m afraid so, yes.” Kentaro said calmly.
“You mean those stories are true? “ She looked deeply into his eyes.
“Yes.”
“You are not human?”
“Not totally, no.”
“Not …mortal?”
“Yes, I can be killed while in human form, though we can live quite a long time.”
“How old are you?”
“Much older than I look.”
Myra looked suddenly annoyed. Now was not the time for him to be evasive.
Kentaro cleared his throat and continued, “I’m a few hundred years, give or take ten years and my grandmother was human.”
“You mean like the woman in the stories?”
“One in the same actually.”
“Oh my gosh!” She always dreamed of this as a child, but to find out that it’s true and here was one who wanted to be with her, not one of her obviously beautiful sisters, but with her!
He moved to touch her and Myra pulled back out of fear. He silently withdrew his hand. He didn’t want her to fear him or reject him.
“I will not harm you,” he assured her.
Somehow she knew that he wouldn’t. It was just a little much to take in, him being a real fox spirit and all. Her heart beat wildly in her chest and kissing him moments ago felt so wonderful, so good so…right.

She looked at him and took his hand placing it around her waist as she kissed him again, deeply this time. He lifted her up easily as one would pick up something small and light and carried her to the bedroom of the guesthouse. He set her down in front of the bed.
He wanted her naked, wanted to suck on her luscious breasts and nuzzle the richness of her sex, kissing her entire body, lap her like cream. He began to pull her sweater over her head. She let him, her body trembling with anticipation her cheeks flushed and her nether regions warm and damp. It had been years since she’d had sex and she wanted Kentaro more than anything at this moment and best of all, he wanted her.
When she was fully naked, he stared in awe at her beauty. He marveled at her full breasts, her thick waist, her hips, curves and shapely thighs. He stripped down quickly, his throbbing hardness now free, hanging thickly between his legs. Myra stared at him in amazement as he lifted her again, laying her on the bed, spreading her legs with his knees. A bottle of Sake appeared suddenly in his hands. Myra watched curiously as he began to pour a bit of it onto her nipples before sucking and licking them. She moaned in response. He poured a little more and followed the liquid with his tongue as it made its way to her down to her moist center. The bottle disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. Kentaro nestled comfortably between her legs, where he nuzzled, licked and sucked causing her to moan and whimper. Her sounds urged him on and he continued until her essence flowed like water, her body trembling and jerking in blissful orgasm. The Sake mixed with her juices intoxicated him and excited him even more. He longed to be inside of her.
He sat her up slowly, bringing her into a deep kiss where she tasted her juices and the Sake on his lips and she kissed him harder. He sat back, wrapping her legs around his waist. He rocked against her, lifting her hips and sliding his thickness hard inside her waiting, slippery, hot body. His shudder shook them both. Face to face, body to body, they moved in a rhythm all their own, kissing and touching. Kentaro held on, neither of them wanted this to end. Kentaro, having found the woman he searched for, and Myra, having found a loving, faithful man, rocked together in total ecstasy. It didn’t matter to them that they came from two different worlds or that one was human and one was not. They were one in this moment, joined together.
With a soft cry, Myra jerked and tightened around him again and again. His heart raced, his blood rushing in his ears. He wanted to make her his, she had to be, he wanted no one but her. He struggled to hold back his release.
“Myra,” he whispered, “Will you be mine forever?”
“Yes,” she cried.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure.”
With her answer he bit into her neck, clamping over the wound, marking her as his. He gave himself up to her, releasing hotly, deeply inside her, making her completely his.
He released his hold on her neck and it began to heal quickly leaving a small scar, his mark to show the other Kitsune that she was his. Myra didn’t feel any pain from his bite and he kissed her again, softly stroking her back. After a few moments, she began to feel hungry again.
“Would you like some more Sake and pumpkin pie?”
“Yes please,” she laughed.
Kentaro held up his hands and the bottle of Sake appeared in one hand and a plate of pumpkin pie appeared in the other.
“Oh I could get used to this,” she laughed.
“You will be able to do this yourself soon.”
“Really?”
“Yes, I will teach you everything.”
Myra beamed as Kentaro smeared some of the pie onto her chest and nipples, licking and sucking happily as she sat on his lap, her head leaning back against a pillow. Then he poured them both a cup of Sake and raised his cup after handing the other to Myra.
“Happy Thanksgiving my love, the first of many we will spend together,” he whispered.
Love, she thought to herself. Yes, this year she could definitely be thankful for that.
“And to you as well my love,” she said softly as they toasted and drank the warm Sake.

The End

THE VICTORY DANCE

noreply@blogger.com (Mahogany SilverRain) — Thu, 05 Nov 2009 15:42:00 +0000

     Dressed in a red oval neckline wool tunic and blue wool apron dress, she stood watching alone as the bitter cold snow beat against her face. Though wrapped in fur pelts fashioned into a cloak with a hood, she shivered. The brass circlet she wore on her head felt like ice and her hands had grown numb with the cold. That didn’t matter to her one bit. It was hell, the waiting. She stood this way, bracing the elements, every day since she’d heard that her beloved, the king, was on his way back home with another victory to celebrate. And celebrate they would. Not only with feasting and merriment, but with love making that lasted for days, locked away in their bedroom in the palace. The servants would leave food and wine outside the door as they were not to be disturbed.
     It’d been two full moons since she’d seen him last, her beloved. Her body ached for him and she longed to hear his voice. Every night she whispered his name, softly chanting, praying to the gods for him to return safely to her. Around her neck she wore his symbol, a Viking dragon pendant, between her breasts and close to her heart. She wanted no other, only he could satisfy her. Her tastes were wild and extravagant, matching his own. Their lust and love for each was so intense, some envied it while others feared it.
He was ruthless with his enemies but fair and kind to his court and subjects. No one dared interrupt them or speak ill of either one, not even in jest, for fear the king and queen would hear of it and have them killed. They made no apologies for who they were. Though the queen was not liked by many in the palace, she’d born the king ten sons, a feat not done by any other queen before her, earning the people’s respect and no one could deny her right as queen. The king saw to that.
     After what seemed an eternity, she spotted the soldiers and their triumphant king in the distance. Her heart beat faster as she lifted her tunic and coat and broke into a run.
“No my queen, you must wait!” Her ladies called behind her but she just ignored them. Faster and faster she moved easily through the snow even though she was weighted down with the fur coat she wore.
     The king pulled the reigns of his horse and stopped as he watched his beloved queen running toward him in an unladylike manner. It didn’t matter to him, only that she loved him as much as he loved her. He laughed as he ordered his men to make way for the queen. He eased off his horse, wincing as the cut on his right side stung him. He stood proudly as she approached him at last. Covered by a cloak of fur pelts held together by golden dragon head shaped clasps over his green wool tunic and furry animal skin boots, the king cut a dashing figure. Even with his windblown strawberry flaxen hair that hung past his shoulders and slightly dirt smudged face, he was indeed handsome. His beard was long, blonde with bits of gray and red mixed in and braided into two braids, one on either side. His body, broad shouldered with arm muscles hard as steel and the strength of ten men to along with them despite his age. His legs were chiseled works of art rivaling that of an Adonis.
“My lord, you have returned to me,” she said slightly out of breath as she stopped short in front of him wanting to jump into his arms but realizing it may not have been the proper thing to do.
“Indeed I have my lady, I will always return to you, not even death shall keep me from it,” he beamed as he grabbed his queen, his hands on her ass, pulling her to him for a kiss.
She threw her arms around his thick neck, breathing in his musky scent as he gently picked her up, wincing slightly.
“My lord, you’re hurt!” she cried.
“Aye woman, just a scratch, tis all, nothing you can’t heal with your good lovin,” his voice deep and playful despite his discomfort.
She clasped her hands on his shoulders, “Put me down sir, so that I may attend to you properly.”
“Not before I’ve had my victory kiss woman!” He grunted as he let her down, pulling back her fur hood to reveal her raven hair. She stood out among the flaxen haired women in their territory and not just with her hair, but with her dark skin. Most women with brunette hair bleached it with lye often resulting in red or red-gold hair. The king adored her dark hair that she wore gathered into an elegant knot in the back of her head. Though most married women covered their head, the king allowed the queen to go without a headdress, so that he could admire her lovely raven hair. He also treasured her dark brown skin, smooth and soft to the touch.
     She was an exotic beauty, purchased in Egypt and brought as a slave to his land by two druid priests who taught her the arts of magic. He found her on one of his journeys and rescued her from the sadistic priests who also used her as a sex slave. They often punished her by tying her up and flogging her when she refused to comply with their sex rituals. She was quite spirited and the moment the king saw her eyes, eyes that were green in color, sparkling like emeralds against her dark skin, he knew he had to have her.
     He brought her home and announced to his father, the old king, that this was the woman he would marry.
His father knew well enough to let his son have his way or there would be hell to pay, especially in matters of the heart. Since he was the only heir to the throne, the old king gave him his blessing.
     The king looked at her now, those eyes beckoning him as her full lips enticed and enflamed his loins. With one hand around her waist and the cradled around her soft hair, he kissed her good and hard. The king’s men all turned their heads away in respect of their king and queen. The happy couple lingered a bit in that kiss before the king finally released the queen turning her away from him to give a swift pat to her behind. She gasped and giggled like a school girl. Then he lifted her up onto his horse.
“Now this, my lads, is the proper way for a wife to greet her husband, queen or not!” he boasted laughing. The laugh was full and hearty and the queen smiled; her heart full of love.
“To the castle men, the feasting awaits!” He roared. Turning to the queen and patting her thigh, “I shall save the best feast for last my love!” He winked and the queen’s body trembled with expectation.
     The queen patched up the king with an ointment made of her special herbs and she bandaged his side lovingly before going to the feasting hall. The eating and drinking heavily lasted for a couple of hours before the king picked up his queen and threw her over his shoulder, carrying her off to their bed chamber.
The chamber consisted of a large four poster bed with wool sheets and fur skinned covers, a huge fire place and a huge wool rug mixed with furry animal skin. Once there he set her down and removed her apron dress and tunic, her nakedness moved him.
     Even after birthing ten sons, the queen’s lovely shape was still intact. Her skin glowed in the firelight. Her slender waist gave way to her curvy hips with thickly muscled legs and shapely calves. A low throaty, lustful sound came from the king as roughly slipped out of his own clothing almost ripping them to shreds. As the queen started to move toward the bed, the king stopped her.
“No, just stand there, let me look at you,” he bellowed. He wanted to savor her, this moment forever. Then he remembered the drinking horn of blood from the battle kills. The horn, topped with brass depicted Viking lovers kissing at the base and the tip was topped with brass in the shape of a dragon’s head.
He quickly retrieved the horn, taking only a sip, letting some of the liquid drip down his chin to his smooth tanned skin. The queen’s eyes lit up with pure lust. She licked her lips as she watched the blood trickle down his skin. She dared not move until he told her too.
     Seeing the wild look his queen’s eyes, the king beckoned her with his finger and she rushed to him, growling as she licked the blood from his chest. He moved her back a bit pouring blood onto her breasts. Smearing the blood of his enemies on each other was the part of the ritual known to the king and queen as the “Victory dance”. The queen, blood soaked, danced sensually for the king, touching him, teasing him, grinding her body seductively against him.
     He fondled her breasts, throwing the horn to the floor and sucked her dark pointed nipples. She pulled from him, turning her backside to him, gyrating in a sensual dance against his swollen cock which throbbed eagerly. The king bent her forward, undoing her raven hair from its knot. He yanked her hair pulling her against him roughly as she continued to grind her hips against him.
“Damn you woman, no more teasing, on your knees!” He ordered. He couldn’t stand it anymore, he wanted her, needed her, missed her, loved her.
She quickly obeyed, getting on all fours on the soft rug by the fire, hoisting her butt in the air as easy access for her king. He dropped to his knees behind her rubbing his hands over her smooth bottom now slick with blood. His member heavy and throbbing sought her entrance. He took her slow at first then pounded her hard with quick thrusts till she screamed and clung tightly to the rug below.
     Flipping her onto her back, he pushed her legs up and licked the insides of her thighs making his way to her cream filled center. The taste of her excited him all the more, but he refrained from release so he could continue to tease and please her. Using his fingers as well as his tongue, he probed her insides bringing her to orgasm so many times that she lost count. Completely soaked by blood and her juices, he climbed up her body, keeping her legs over his shoulder and shoved the bulbous head of his cock inside. Deeper and deeper he pushed himself inside of her. There was no other who made him feel this way. She excited him in ways he couldn’t comprehend. He was as thrilled with her as the day they met some twenty years ago.
     The queen writhed gloriously beneath him, matching his stride, urging him on with her hips, tightening her legs around his neck. He rode her this way, wild and hard, changing positions, laying her on her side, letting her ride him as he rubbed her clit with one hand while twisting her right nipple with the other. She loved the sensation in both breasts but favored the right one. More intense was the right side. This dance would continue for three days straight with only a few breaks in between for sleeping, eating, drinking and bathing each other. On the final night as she lay against the king’s broad chest, his arms wrapped tightly around her, she thanked the gods for bringing him home and even more so for the “Victory Dance”.

The End

Halloween Bash 09

noreply@blogger.com (Mahogany SilverRain) — Tue, 27 Oct 2009 23:48:00 +0000

3RD Annual Halloween Bash on October 30th, 9am -12am EST. Come and party with me and other authors and publishers, free reads, games, contests and lots of prizes! Where you say?

Go to http://groups.yahoo.com/group/savannahchase/ Hope to see you there!