Tales Of Erosity, by Cindy Jacks, Kristin Manter and Kayden McLeod

Tales Of Erosity Blog

Tales Of Erosity Facebook Group

Offical Launch: May 10th 2010, (Monday)

There are places in this world where the otherworldly inhabitants are more abundant than others.

Erosity is one of them.

Welcome to a city, where sensuality meets the dark side of the paranormal, allowing the reader to slip into the world of vampires, witches, shifters, angels and demons. Leave your realm, and enter the underbelly of the farthest reaches of society; where not seen, heard or remembered takes on a whole new meaning.

See their real adventures, wherever they may take them.

Tales of Erosity will vary in heat ratings; anywhere from sweet to erotic, but will be given a rating with each posting. Follow the Tales of Erosity, to keep up on the latest drama or sexcapades that the otherworldly beings pursue.

Erosity Authors

Cindy Jacks

Kristin Manter

Kayden McLeod

Sample Story:


Title: The Demon Queen, Part I

By: Kayden McLeod

Rating: PG, with obscene language


A scream sounded from down one of the alleys I’d crossed, but paid no mind while setting my direct course to where I’d been bid.
Let the humans rot this night, I thought bitterly.
I walked down the darkened streets of Erosity, an hour past the twilight settling upon the horizon. I wasn’t in the mood to listen to their bitching and whining about inspiration, let alone their even more petty problems that had never concerned me.
My name was Liwet, the “angel” of inventions. However, I wasn’t pristine, as most thought me. I was shunned from the normal crowds, who knew what I was on sight.
I was a half-demon, half-angel; a dirty half-breed, to be pushed to the shadows, and forgotten.
But I had long since come to terms with it, tending to stay at the edges of society, and never really taking part. The angels shunned me, but the demons…
Well, most of them were arrogant assholes I could never stand. The unattached men liked to think me a different sort of notch on their bedposts. Though some were…acceptable to be around for short periods of platonic time.
I headed into a darkened alcove, toward the back entrance into the Willows, a bar that fronted the ocean cliffs. One a…dear friend owned; if I could call my brother that.
“Li,” Mastema said from the empty back of the kitchen. But I could hear the sounds of cooking food and clinking plates from around the corner, telling me it was a productive evening.
Mastema stared at me expectedly.
Of course he would know I was coming. He was a full demon, one who kept out of the lower realms by staying quiet, and running this bar. This surprised me, since his purpose was to tempt men toward sin. Yet he denied his most basic principles, to stay out of the hell realms I was almost always exempt from, unless I broke the sacred laws applying to being one of the Guides to humanity who resided on earth.
“Why have you called me here?”
“I need you to work tonight. We are unusually busy, and I do not like so many humans mixing with my people, without proper balance.”
In other words; he needed someone to kick ass, if his brethren stepped out of line. Someone, who wasn’t him. Great.
“Why me, Mast?” I asked, being “dumb” on purpose. Even though he didn’t let it show, it pissed him off.
And I was just in that kind of mood. Thankfully, half of my status put me almost on his playing field, almost. Plus, he had a millennia or two on me. Not that in the grand timeline of things, this mattered very much.
“You’re being unreasonably bitchy tonight,” he mused. His thick muscular body was covered in ritual blue-jeans and a t-shirt, just tight enough to show that he was ripped, but not enough to prove it. “In fact, a lot actually.”
I sighed, knowing even if I gave him the firm no currently on my mind, he would still “talk” me into it.
“What do you need?”
“You, on the bar,” Mastema muttered. “Nicor heard about a thunderstorm near to coast and…”
“Decided to go play in it?”
My brother nodded, but never with disgust. Those demons who chose to stay for a long time or live here, very rarely had the chance to act, or be who they really were while on this plane. But it was much the same for us half-breeds of different sorts, and then full-angels.
“I suspect the rush will only get worse the later it gets. But I do have to warn you… Oriax is here tonight with his friends.”
“What?” I asked slowly, what tiny bit of good-humour I’d possessed quickly fled me. “You expect me not to throw something at him in the course of an entire evening?”
My brother rolled his eyes at my mild dramatics, and then pushed his back off of the counter’s edge, a sleek roll of sinew.
I followed only somewhat dutifully. They emerged to the hustle and bustle of the busy portion of the kitchen, with ten or so bodies moving with fast precision, revealing not a one of human descent. Not that I expected less, from the last time I had been summoned here. It wasn’t like I came of my own free will. That was such a human ideal.
None looked up from what they were doing, their ligaments jostling this way and that, but their finished plates stunning as could be, for burgers and fries.
I’d grant that they were delicious and quite addicting, but there was only so far one could go to please this particular clientele. Demons didn’t care for their meat cooked, but the staff would barely sear it on the outside, so the humans who ventured in here couldn’t tell the difference.
I snagged a fry, and Mastema whirled, looking just behind me and glaring at whatever he saw that had displeased him so.
“What?”
“Have you fallen so low, that you walk among humankind with your wings exposed in such a fashion? Are you looking to get thrown back into the hell realms?”
“They cannot see them,” I replied coldly. “I will no longer be spurred under someone else’s terms, but only my own. Only full-bloods can see these black-feathered contraptions that condemned me from birth, and since they are such a disgrace to both heritages, I will be upfront about it. At least then, I can see their sneers upfront, and know what they think, before they even say a word.”
During my entire speech, all movement had stopped around me. Had my words been so very shocking?
“You are serious?”
“Just because I cannot see your wings nor horns, does not mean they are not there. You have modified the color of your skin, so it looks more tanned than burnt red, but it is only a secondary appearance to what you really look like.”
“And your point?”
I swore every set of lungs stopped breathing, awaiting for my answer. “This is what I look like.”
The lines of Mastema’s lips became cynical, falsely blue eyes hardening into ice-chips. Really, they were a pitiless black, stretching from lid to lid. He didn’t like my assessment, but he couldn’t find a way to reasonably argue the truth.
It was by this show of real emotion, which proved to me the seething rage on the inside was rapidly boiling. Would it burn me? Did I really care, if it did? It had been a low blow, and not a one inside the kitchen thought differently.
I was fast running out of patience for just about everyone, and anything, as dangerous as this was. We both knew it, but it was him that broke the rigid staring down contest that had developed.
“Let’s go then.” He ushered me past the swinging doors, into the ebb and flow of the bar.
Waitresses wandered around taking and giving orders from the customers, but I didn’t pay the inhabitants any mind at all, while I walked behind the bar, trying not to look for Oriax and crew sitting somewhere among the crowds.
Even with my heightened senses, I didn’t sense the much older astrology-obsessed demon. But I had no doubts in his own good time, he would find me.
I set about taking the first few orders, absorbing myself in the task, knowing the tips of my wings brushed against the bottles on the glass shelves behind me. When I was forced to catch a bottle of vodka before it hit the ground, I had to admit Mastema was right.
I hated to ever do such a thing! Without looking toward the doors where he still stood, the wings physically left my body, leaving me human-looking as I was going to get, short of losing my immortality.
A thick tendril of long black hair escaped being tucked behind my ear, falling past my line of vision and blocking the entire right-side of the front bar area. I wasn’t paying attention when a hand caught mine, the touch searing hot as only a demon’s could be.
“Hello, il mio dolce,” Oriax said in a heavily-accented voice, forcing me to cut off a sarcastic laugh.
He was always the pretender, making a life out of acting completely opposite to what he actually was, and taking pleasure in confusing the races. He had multiple personalities, the likes I’d never seen in another individual.
His friends stood around him like jackals they were; Berith, Cresil and Kobal. Demons. They were all testosterone and male arrogance. Not that he was any different, in fact making them all look far worse.
“Drop the act,” I demanded.
“Che cosa, bellezza mia, io ti offendono?” Oriax looked affronted himself, but I didn’t believe it for a single second!
“Sei davvero feccia. You are not Italian, Ori, you don’t even look as such!”I tugged my hand back, hating the reaction I always had around someone so absolutely vile.
“You know, I really love it when you call me that,” he responded without any harshness or reprimand. He was even harder to piss off than my brother.
“That you are scum?”
“No dear, that you think to shorten my name,” Oriax muttered, and his friends smiled maliciously, “like an endearment. Can we talk?”
“What for? I am working for my brother.”
“Yes, I know. I asked him to call you in. I knew you wouldn’t take it, if I phoned, let alone heed my proper summons, if you could help it.”
“He did what?” I whirled, my hair flying out and hitting him satisfyingly in the face, inducing the three stooges at his back into fits of unmanly giggles.
I couldn’t help but smirk, both at them and my brother, who stared back unrepentantly. Mastema shrugged, absolving himself of guilt as he ducked back into the kitchen.
Coward.
“Come outside with me for a moment. Kobal take the bar,” Oriax ordered, taking back my hand, pulling me down the length of bar and through the opening, toward the door.
“What is this about?”
“Just hold on to that thought,” he muttered, implying he wanted away from the many set of keen ears that had perked up at our swift moments.
I could almost hear them now; what was Oriax doing with the half-breed?
Fuck ‘em, I thought. And if any one of them thought to say a thing to me, I wouldn’t hesitate to say it aloud.
The moment the door closed behind us, a layer of power spread over the small patio-style balcony, with stairs leading down the rocky cliff, to emerge at the beach below, the ocean crashing upon the surrounding rocks with ferocious velocity.
The city ran up and down the ocean, spreading out into the secluded valley, keeping a rather large population of the underworld races that most places on earth would never see by the light of day.
It was a “hot” spot. The demons congregated around the strongest of the veils between the realms, and the angels were here to counteract them. Then sprinkle in the vampires, witches and God knew what else, and then you had a party at random moments. Most times, they had to be quickly dispatched, lest too much drama unfolded and all of us would suffer for it.
Deep in thought, I ignored the man at my side. I felt this had to mean something, but it was convoluted and driving me mad.
“Liwet?” Oriax asked with strain in his voice.
“What?”
“I need you to do something for me,” he asked softly. “Something very important, one I need you to think over very carefully.”
“I don’t want to know this, do I?”
“No, you really don’t. And I wouldn’t ask this of you, if it wasn’t absolutely necessary.”
“Then spit it out, Ori. When we were…dating,” we both smirked at that, “you had no problem telling me anything on your mind.”
Yea, so, we had history. A lot of it.
“I need a wife,” he blurted out.
I blinked, not comprehending. “Excuse me? Why would you tell me this?”
“Because,” he admitted, his pupils bleeding out to the edges of his eyes, until they were completely black, “they chose you.”

***

Part II coming soon, along with many other fabulous stories from the Erosity Authors!

WIP; Death Of Innocence, Excerpt Two/ Rated: R

Hey Readers,

A Rated R excerpt from Death Of Innocence, Paranormal Romance.

Cheers,

Kayden


Excerpt:


Fierce, clawing need worked its way to dominance, and I began to fear I couldn’t control myself, feeling like an animal, savage and full of need. My muscles coiled under her timidly exploring hands.

I had to closely school my impatient impulses, curb the sexual desire that was too natural for me. We felt such things more acutely, much more often than humans seemed to. That and the entire experience was something more than what I’d read in my associates minds.

After seeing such things, I’d spoken with a few others about it, and we’d come to the conclusion that we took more care with this act because we enjoyed everything about it, and having the stamina to see it through.

The floodgate had opened, and it was all I could do not to throw her to the ground and…do everything I had dreamed of for so long.

I craved to finally put my considerable skill to some use. I’d stroked myself late at night when she was asleep and unaware, fantasizing about her.

Corbin had always wondered why I didn’t just take her, but that wasn’t what I’d wanted. The decision to not pursue her in any such fashion, until I could come to her honestly had been amazingly easy.

I widened my thighs and without breaking the kiss, I slipped my hands under her arms and pulled her onto the bed. I sprawled out onto the comforter, dragging her over my chest, and gently flipped her body over.

My skin was highly sensitized, so aware of every movement her muscles along my hard, pulsing body made. She pushed her hands beneath her to gain leverage, adjusting the angle of her body so she was comfortable. I dragged my thickened organ across her, making her shutter deliciously.

I felt my canines throb, preparing to descend whether I wanted them to or not. She is a vampire now…loose control.

Oh, how very tempting.

Her tongue touched the tip of one, and she went rigid, heart thudding harder, blood rushing so much faster through those veins.

I shifted so the centre of her body was flush with mine, feeling her inside my head, reading every dark and satisfying fantasy. Growling and impatient, I flipped her over again onto her back, crawling over her to taste her sweet skin. Soon enough we would be properly mated and she’d be branded as mine.

She laughed against my lips, and I swore she called me a Neanderthal in her mind, but I couldn’t be sure over the roar in my ears. To feel her beneath me so willing and needing finally broke whatever remained of my control.

My fingers gripped the edges of her blouse to tear it from her body, from throat to waist. I could’ve done it more civilized way, but I was tired of hiding. Tonight, I just wanted her.

“Are you…?” She wasn’t scared, just surprised.

“I’m fine,” I promised, nipping her collarbone.

I tugged the long skirt from her body, hungrily moving my gaze over every inch of bared flesh. Her tongue touched her swollen bottom lip, and it was only a matter of time before my statement would change.

I kissed her ribcage, nipping the skin along her stomach, loving how the muscles clenched beneath my eager mouth. I ran my tongue along the flat surface above her hipbone, so close to what I wanted now. My eyes were on her face as I pressed biting kisses across her thigh, coming to rest between her legs.

That unfathomable curiosity lit her gaze, honestly and much too innocently not understanding what was happening, though trusting me enough to only ask a mild question.

“What are you doing?” She dug for the information, but I could hide from her for the time being. When we mated I would lose a degree of privacy to her, until then, I would exploit it.

I didn’t allow her to see what was in mind, nor did I answer. This would be a titillating surprise for me.

I knew more than well enough Thomas had used her only for his own pleasure, and she honestly thought that was all there was. He had been a selfish lover, neglecting her every need.

Over the past few months, I’d had to refrain from laughter when she thought of sex, compared to how I believed it to be. Of course, she’d never known the extent of what I knew about her.
I laid a long, flat trail over her apex with my tongue, before finally touching her clit. Her hips automatically jerked, her mouth forming a small o.

Another satisfying pass of my tongue had her back arching, eyes molten sapphires. I waited as her hips moved restlessly. She bit her lower lip again in a too innocent gesture I couldn’t quite resist.

I closed my mouth over her, and liquid heat rushed to greet me, coaxing the cream until she soaked with it. I murmured a spell, to take care of any noise that would wake up the children. And I had every intention of making her scream, test every limit and push every restraint until they snapped.

My cock pulsed unbearably at the thought, the promise of her lovely flesh beneath mine driving me to insanity.

I lowered my body from the bed, dragging her hips towards the edge. She’d barely settled herself, before I continued my assault on her senses and succulent flesh. Her wide eyes stared at me, locking on mine, unable to look away as I watched her over her mound.

“Gregory,” she whispered, fingers pushing my blonde hair back from my face.

Her spine bowed, screams dragged from her throat, fingers tightening in my hair. I smiled against the silky flesh when the orgasm began to unfurl, riding her addicting body, distributing shocking sensations that she didn’t understand yet. But I’d ensure she would.

My shaft was so hard, aching while the blood rushed to my groin, constantly twitching as I rushed Canya into another orgasm, her throat raw from long, satisfying shrieks.

I growled, letting the vibrations work through her, finally satisfied that she was ready, slick, so wet. I couldn’t even think about it, and maintain sanity at the same time.

I whispered a few words, concentrating on letting my clothes disappear. She cocked her head, pleased to see me so easily naked for the first time, and curious on how I had come to be that way.

“Later there will be time for explanations. Right now I wish to teach you other, more pleasurable concepts.” My voice was so hoarse, it broke. Love crowded my mind, the need to show her any way possible how much I needed her, in ways that words could never covet.

“I don’t think I can move. You killed me.” Her eyes drifted shut, and a small grin touched her tempting mouth.

“Oh, come now. I am nowhere near finished with you. That was just the beginning.” I buried my lips against her throat, loving how her arms automatically came around me.

There was no way to be any harder, thicker, but her delicate fingers dragged that impossible reaction from me anyways.

Before I could stop her, she snapped her hips up, taking all of me in with enough friction I had to fight to retain my focus.

“You are so fucking tight.” I growled against the side of her face, pausing for a moment to relish the feeling.

“Mmm,” she murmured wordlessly, wickedly milking me.

I shared every fantasy ever dreamt of her; every little thing that turned me on; making slow, lazy passes over bunches of nerves deep inside of her.

I revered in her body, finding just the right rhythm. My balls grew heavy and tight as her core took me over with a scalding wave of pleasure. Hot jets accompanied the warm cream, calling out every last bit of sensation before her muscles gave out, going limp beneath me.

I rolled until her head was on my chest, wrapping my arms around her, waiting for my breath to even before I started this all over again. It would be a long, wondrous night that had no end in sight.

I was sated though, for the moment. Her scent, the feel of her skin blocked out the world’s troubles, even if only for a little while.

WIP Excerpt: Taigh O'Sullivan; A Gothic Romance

Hey Readers!!!

This is a Gothic Romance with a paranormal twist. It is entitled Taigh O'Sullivan; A Gothic Romance, about a girl named Siobhan who is forced to travel to a castle to complete the job of her recently past uncle who was archiving Lord O'Sullivan's impressive collection of books. If she does not, her aunt and herself will be out of a home, without money or anything to call their own. She was raised in willing seclusion, and once out of the comfort and safety of home, away from her protective aunt, Siobhan learns that she is not only an empath, but she can see ghosts.

Happy Reading...

Kayden McLeod

http://kaydenmcleod.com/

Excerpt:

I thought the Lord would go to them, but instead he veered off for the library.

When I moved to follow him, he whirled towards me with a snarl playing on his full lips. He looked irrational, wild even. I couldn’t understand the mood swings that were affecting my thought process, my ability to react with any common sense.

What had I done to inspire such vivid differences in him?

“Tomorrow you will work,” he said coldly. Even with the distance between us, I stepped back from him. I was stunned by it. “I work at night, alone. Always.”

There was weight to those words, a meaning behind them that would take me time to really decipher. If I hadn’t been so caught up with what was happening, perhaps I would have better assessed what was really going on, and not just how it appeared.

He wanted, no needed to get away from me, and I knew he would flee to his library. The villagers had mentioned the Lord’s obsession with books several times, closeting himself away from the world with them alone. He’d been very rarely seen anywhere for a long time, and even though I had asked the locals, they hadn’t told me the reason for it. Only that he did. Then I’d thought they hadn’t known, but now I had to wonder.

When I had asked about the semi-infamous brother, Cullen O’Sullivan, I was met with several mixed opinions. While he was seen in the surrounding villages far more often, they didn’t know what to think of him. Some thought he was nice, others, as arrogant as the Lord. The younger women were soaked with obvious infatuation and longing, and the older were caught between wariness and his charm. Men both of youth and age flatly refused to comment, though I didn’t miss the leery emotion hidden behind gruff, short words.

When prodded further, they told me there was a time when this castle was filled with life, people running around going about their daily lives. There was peace and happiness, but not any longer.

Something had changed for all concerned, and the details were sketchy at best, but I felt there was something vital they didn’t divulge to me. A part that was lost between the words. It didn’t matter how I phrased my polite questions, they were no more forthcoming, other than to warn me off.

They’d mentioned the mischief and mayhem happening around the castle at the last leg of their employment, though not what had caused it. Unexplainable things that had come to pass with growing frequency, and it wasn’t long before they’d been spooked enough to leave in all haste, and seek other employment. Not that I could blame them this.

Lord O'Sullivan growled under his breath. I assumed at my silence as we regarded each other.

“Your room is up there.”

“You will not show me where it is then?” I asked softly, panic trying to set in at the thought of going up there alone. It damned near closed my throat.

It wasn’t that I was warm yet per-say, but it had been a definite improvement from the storm. It enabled me to notice the difference when the temperature dropped dramatically, with no reasonable source to explain it.

My breath floated on the air in tiny puffs, much like it would outside in the dead of winter.
“Are you incapable of choosing a room?” He muttered more to himself, walking towards the library. “They are all…available.”

Didn’t he sleep up there? And what of his brother? My mouth opened to respond, but nothing came out other than a soft squeak.

He continued on unheeded, without so much as another glance, disappearing into what I was sure is an impressive space devoted solely to books. The one thing in this world I loved above all others, the only thing in my world that was consistently reliable.

I was tempted to find a place to sleep down here, where I knew someone else would be close. But the call of dry clothing was too much for my somnolent body. My belongings had arrived before me, or so I’d been promised. It remained to be seen whether they were or not, and if so, their location was beyond me. I wanted to follow him, to ask, but I shortly lost my nerve.

I would look first, just in case I found them on my own. It was better than risking another confrontation with him for nothing. There was something happening with the Lord, and my arrival had somehow triggered it. I couldn’t afford to take the risk such a simple question presented. Not when the previous ones had been taken so badly.

Taking a deep breath, I began walking forward, and it unease rose. It became harder and harder for me to get closer to the steps, like I were wading through waist deep water. No, that wasn’t right. It was more like quicksand. The more I tried, the less I moved.

There was pressure on my shoulder-blades, and I knew something was keeping me back. I refused to feel panic, permitting my mind to work through this rationally. Something the other never would’ve allowed me.

A breeze trailed across my cheek, but there wasn’t anywhere for it to have come from. Did a door open again, and I had not heard it? There was nothing out of the ordinary as I examined every crevice of the sprawling space.

When I attempted to move again, the breeze shrieked in protest. There wasn’t doubt any longer from where it came, when it swept down the curving staircase with a terrifying velocity.

The sound of a woman shrieking came along with the blast that pushed me backwards. It took everything for me to stay on my feet, and not fall. The noise was deafening, but it didn’t bring the Lord out to see what was going on.

Surely I wasn’t imagining this too?

“You do not understand. I must stay here, or my aunt dies!” I called back. I felt it hesitate just as I hit the back wall by the front entrance, unable to be pushed any further. Or I was sure the force would have tried.

It receded around me as if in shock, but the presence didn’t leave. The tapestries stopped whipping around, falling back to the walls, though now quite wrinkled. Proof I was not as mad as I needed to believe I was.

A vase on a nearby table violently rocked in the aftermath, and I launched forward the moment it tipped to one side, but missed by a long shot. But it never hit the ground, stopping mere inches from the stone floor. As I watched, it righted itself midair and set back down on the table without a sound.

When the murmuring continued, I struggled to understand even a word of it. There was so much desperation to it. And I had a feeling that whoever spoke, was actually screaming at me from wherever they were. For it definitely wasn’t here.

“What do you want from me?” I asked finally, hoped to jar loose something, to make this thing be straight with me.

The mumbling slowly turned to soft words, growing stronger with the presence solidifying around me. Much like it had before when I was outside.

The impression was that the words hadn’t been for me, but for someone or something else. Was there more than one voice? Yes, on closer inspection there was, not that I could understand any of them. But I knew they were talking about me.

Then the words surged with confidence, one strong united front. The final statement came through loud and clear, vibrating through me;

Since you decided to stay; absolution and retribution.