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Adam Latham knows one thing, and one thing only—he simply has to have Marissa Cole as his own. Not as his school mate, or his girlfriend who lives in his family’s house with him. Her. He needs her to be his wife, and he’ll find a way to make that happen, whether or not his medical condition as Harkham’s unresolved case has improved. His overwhelming need for Mari’s touch continues unabated. Even as her life grows more complicated—dealing with her father’s issues in another state—Adam becomes more determined that they’ll have a life together after they graduate high school in a few short months. What will he do when he finds out exactly what past abuse Mari’s suffered? How will he handle it when she falls apart in front of his very eyes? He can only hope to contain the numbers that try to consume him and the violet anxiety attacks that follow, on his own. How will he deal with his unsupportive family members that rally against his relationship with this damaged girl? Is Dr. Harkham the answer to his questions? Only Adam knows what it means to live with an undefined disability. Until he finds the key that unlocks the secrets to his past mysteries, will he be able to move on and live a full and happy life with his Mari.

Genre Erotic Romance

Series Harkham's Series

Expected Publication Date September 15th 2015


 About the Author

Chanse ME AVIChanse Lowell grew up in the desert southwest and still lives there with her children. She’s addicted to five things—her Daddy Dom, learning more about the BDSM lifestyle, reading erotica, writing erotica and sandwiches with a side of erotica to aid with digestion before she’s tied up in black silk ropes and teased endlessly by her Sir. She grew up watching programs with science fiction and historical fiction themes, and enjoys combining her three favorite genres, creating a new breed of novel with scifi, historical and smut sandwiched in the middle. The last thing she ever thought she’d do was pursue her dream to be a writer since her family tends to keep her busy. But having recently entered the BDSM lifestyle and discovering she’s a submissive babygirl herself has opened her eyes to how few stories there are exploring the softer side of the lifestyle and how most inaccurately portray the Dom/sub dynamics in a monogamous relationship. She felt it her duty to share what she’s learned and adores about the BDSM lifestyle. Along with her new mission to write about the joys in this beautiful world of dominance and submission, she also loves chatting online with others with similar kinky interests and has advisers in the lifestyle that help make sure her stories remain true and don’t veer off into outer space. Although aliens probably enjoy kink, too, since they like to dress in rubber fetish-wear while traveling. At least that’s her argument for why her new genre she’s created is valid.

Connect with Chanse Lowell!

Website | Goodreads | Facebook | Twitter

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adr_banner ADRSynopsis

Lex Talionis (n.)- The law of retaliation, whereby a punishment resembles the offense committed in kind and degree.

Two wrongs. One right. He met her under the worst circumstances. She was still married. To the man who'd stolen from his company. But none of that would matter, because Chase would have her. At any cost.

To Chase Blaine, it really was that simple. Douglas Colton had stolen millions from Chase’s company. He had to pay. Chase had every intention of cornering the bastard and making sure he ended up in jail.

Then he came face-to-face with Douglas’s wife, Aria. One look at her changed all his plans, warping them into a much darker and perverse plot to get his revenge.

He would offer Douglas his freedom...in exchange for a single date with his wife.

To a man like Chase, a man that hadn’t truly felt emotions in a long time, Aria’s presence soon became more addicting than a drug. A problem considering that she might never forgive him for blackmailing her, despite the fact that at times she seems just as unwillingly fascinated by him as he is by her.

Genre Erotica/ Contemporary Romance

Series Retaliations #1

Publication Date February 14th 2014

goodreads-black-200x200 kindle_logo_on_black-200x53__________________________________________________________________

Excerpt #1

Chase’s hands shot up, and he cupped her face between his large palms. The feel of his skin kick started her entire system. She gasped as air rushed through her windpipe. His scent made her throat close right back up.

Her body throbbed.


He pulled her closer, eliminating the last bit of space between them. “Tell me the real reason why.” He took deep breaths, his face tilted toward hers. His eyes probed hers.

Too deep. She couldn’t focus passed that stare—his scent.


“Chase, I…” She pressed her hands to his chest. She had to push him away. Now.

She couldn’t. Everything inside her was shaken. Everything about her was fluctuating wildly, realigning in ways she couldn’t understand. Her atoms seemed to tremble.

For him. Her body was liquefying for him.

Chase cupped the back of her neck with one hand. His thumb stroked her. The sensation barreled through every nerve ending in her body.

“I wish I was strong enough, Aria. I fucking do,” he mumbled, voice gone hoarse.

Aria didn’t have a chance to ask him what he meant.

He leaned down. For a split second, she was convinced he was going to kiss her.

And she wanted it so fucking bad. Her entire body opened up, softening in preparation for that kiss.

Chase stopped an inch away from her lips, eyes heavy-lidded as he focused on her mouth. He was panting.

She couldn’t think. His full lips were right there. All she had to do was lean up on her toes. Less than an inch and she would know if he tasted as good as he smelled. If those lips felt as good as--

Chase tilted his head and pressed his cheek against hers. He nuzzled her, his jaw sliding across her own with the movement.

Aria stared over his shoulder, trapped by—what? Arousal? Confusion? Disappointment?

Oh God.

He let loose a deep groan that stole all the sensation from her legs. With a gasp, she clutched at his shoulders.

“So warm. Soft,” he whispered, so low she almost didn’t hear him.

Against her God damned will, she felt her focus zero in and become all about him. She had to extricate herself. Get away. But her body wasn’t obeying; her nails had become claws determined to keep him right where he was.

No, Aria. You have to stop this. You have to.

She didn’t want to. She wanted more. More of his scent, his smooth cheek pressed to hers, more of him. His lips. His--

“Ch–Chase.” She pushed at his shoulders. Her attempts were pathetic. Her body wanted, with a desperation it had never wanted with before, and it was determined to have. “I… I…”

Chase’s hand tightened around the back of her neck, holding her still so that he could murmur right up against her cheek. “Aria.”

Fuck. The feel of his lips. His breath.

The freaking way he kept saying her name!

“You have yet to answer my question.” His bottom lip slid across her skin and his tongue touched her as he spoke.

That’s because I can’t, you jackass. Oh, if only those words would leave her mouth.

She had no idea what the answer to his question was. All she knew right then was the feel of his tongue as it flicked her skin. The feeling palpated across her flesh, sliced through the layers, and slid in deep.

She fisted his blazer, feeling faint. Suddenly, he backed her up, driving her right into the wall behind her. Aria felt her back hit the wall; she expected him to press that large, sculpted body of his into her right after.

God help her, she wanted him to.

He didn’t, remaining inches away from her, with those lips still pressed to her cheek.

“You want me to answer the question for you, Aria?”

Dread raced through her at his low, heated question. She knew that whatever he was going to say, it would hit her too hard, too deep, and way too truthfully.

“I’m going to tell you what I think.”

Please don’t. She knew right then how obvious her body’s reaction was. It was too God damned obvious.

“I think,” Chase paused, brushing her skin lightly with his lips.

Aria shook her head, choking on everything he was and everything he was making her fucking want.

“You feel this between us, Aria.” He kissed her cheek one more time, lingering just enough to drive her wild. “As wrong as everything has been so far… You. Feel. This.”

Chase pulled away from her and stormed down the hall.

The sound of the door slamming open and closed reverberated through Aria, mixing with the maelstrom churning in her body.

She sagged against the wall.


Excerpt #2

Hearing that he was going to kiss her swarmed through Aria and attacked her most basic, most primal of instincts.

Suddenly, it was all about him. How good he smelled, and the heat coming off him. Add that to the fact that she knew damned well how attractive he was, and how weak she was against it.

To her chagrin, her hands had gone right back to fisting his blazer. When she couldn’t stop herself from licking her lips, Chase gave a low groan. Chagrin morphed right back to self-loathing. The man in front of her had forced his way into her life. In the eyes of the law, she was still married, never mind that her husband hadn’t touched her in months.

None of that mattered in the face of how much she hungered for him or how deep that hunger went.

She knew that, soon, nothing would matter. Nothing except tasting him. Experiencing him. There was no denying that part of her—a very large one—was ready to beg him to take her mouth. Take it hard. Fast. Like no one ever had before. She’d only ever been with Douglas and, physically speaking, Chase was just so much more.

“Give me this, Aria. Open your eyes so I can kiss you. Let me see if it’ll be as good between us as I think it’s going to be.”

For some reason, knowing that she wasn’t alone in her lapse of reason made her head spin. Her heart beat as if it’d just received a fresh infusion of alcohol. No. She was more than drunk. This went beyond any sort of high. A single push of her heart was all it took for the madness to spread.

She needed those lips. God, she needed that kiss he was about to give her and she needed it right the fuck then.

Her eyelids fluttered open. The blue in his eyes consumed her entire vision.

The first brush of his lips against hers was atomic. A vicious nuclear mushroom went off inside her, breaking apart everything that made her female and scattering the pieces.

His lips were softer than she’d thought they’d be. So damn full. She wanted to bite his bottom one. Feel it ghost across one of her hardened nipples.

Aria choked on a moan.

Chase pulled away and let his head fall back. She watched as his powerful neck tensed up. The sound that left him was… God, that sound. She was going to let me him take her. The way her pussy contracted from the agony of wanting him left her with no other option.

She wanted that big, beautiful man between her legs. Deep inside her, his lips on every inch of skin she offered.

He lowered his head and the expression on his face made her lips part. An accusation. A sexy, hungry accusation combined with his almost black eyes.


She sympathized with him. Her expression was probably a perfect replica of his right then.

You. You did this to me.

His hands trailed down her back. They wrapped around her waist, spanning it, and all she could think about was arching and feeling every inch of him.

Every. Inch.

Was he hard for her?

Chase’s stare remained focused on her mouth. His tongue trailed along his bottom lip, wetting it, right before he bit it.

She couldn’t stop herself from whimpering and doing the same.

“God, Aria.” He gripped her neck and held her still. Bared his teeth. His tongue peeked out to wet his lip again as he lowered his head, and she knew: this time, he was going to give it to her. All of it. Whatever it was.

She pushed her way out of his grip, surprising them both.

He froze, his almost wild stare following her.

Her nerves, atoms, her damn skin, it all screeched with fury. Trembling, she reached behind her, grabbing the doorknob.

Chase snapped out of it as soon as he realized what she was doing. “Aria.”

“I… I can’t. Chase, I can’t. I have to go.” She flung the door open and all but stumbled out of it.



About the Author

nisabelleblancoN. Isabelle Blanco was born in Queens, NY (USA). At the age of three, due to an odd fascination with studying her mother's handwriting, she began to read and write. By the time she'd reached kindergarten, she had an extensive vocabulary and her obsession with words began to bleed into every aspect of her life.

An avid reader in her teens, her fascination with Japanese anime eventually led her to the universe of fan fiction, which became her on-again, off-again hobby for the next ten years. During that time she amassed a following of fans that, by her own admission, she would never be able to live without. It was those fans who encouraged her to step beyond the fan fiction realm and try her talent in the publishing world.

N. Isabelle Blanco now has three novellas and two full-length novels under her belt, and spends her days working as an author, web programmer, marketer, and graphic designer. That is when she isn't handling her "spawn", as she calls her son, and brainstorming with him about his future career as a comic book illustrator.

Connect with N. Isabelle Blanco!

Website | Goodreads | Facebook | Twitter

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Clarissa Stone never thought she had a chance to make it on stage, but a strike in 1907 at the music hall in New York City opens up a door, and Clarissa races to it. The path isn’t easy, and especially not after catching the eye of William Berling Ferrismore III. Money and power have gone to his head and he uses that to his advantage, sating his sexual appetite with the women on stage. Clarissa won’t be caught so easy, but William doesn’t play by the rules. How can she prove her worth as an actress with his defaming ways?

“Quiet. Wait ‘til I have you in the motorcar, then you may speak freely,” he told her, helping her into his vehicle.

“Do you even know how to drive?” she asked when he was at her side.

“I drive this motorcar the way you drive me mad—with precision and a punishing force.”

She gulped and took to holding her wobbling knees.

“Tell me now—you will not leave, will you? Once I have you in my home, you will not desert me?”

“Why would I? Unless you mean to massacre me.” She chuckled, and it was nervous sounding.

Probably because the butterflies dancing in her stomach had taken to other parts of her body.

“I mean to devour you, lick you in the basest places and dig my fingers into you. I think you can withstand it—my cherry girl is built for my onslaught.”

She sucked in a tight breath, her abdomen caving in with the action.

“What if I taste wretched and am unflattering on the tongue?”

He laughed, and it was unsettling how free he sounded over these vulgar things they were discussing. And why did she want more of this type of talk?

“Oh, little cherry, how you amuse me. Have you forgotten so soon I have already had your cream on my taste buds? It still lingers and drives me to distraction. I want that flavor coated on my cock.”

“Oh, almighty Jesus,” she whispered under her failing breath.

“Oh, yes, I shall have it, too. Before you sleep this night, you shall do exactly what I say.”

She gripped her knees harder. They were close to shaking—her hands were not much steadier.

“I shall not request your obedience—I shall earn it and demand it. In return, you shall have unending adoration flung at your feet as I worship your gorgeous body built for my hands to explore. I shall respect you, find every way possible to keep you happy, but you will be mine, and you will submit,” he said, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard.

His voice was hoarse, and his hands clung to the steering wheel. The pulse at his neck was visibly racing.

“When you say these things to me—do you expect me to respond?”

“Yes, but not with words. Those are unnecessary. I already know how you feel. I can taste it in the air surrounding me. I can hear it in your exaggerated breathing and in the grip on your legs. You are ready to drip at my command. And I can barely wait to give that order.” He turned to look at her, and she froze. “You may use words right now if you wish, though. So, say it . . .”

“Say what?”

“Say you are afraid of me. That you think me an unholy bastard. That you want to run right this instant and flee my wicked presence and salty tongue.” He turned his head back to the road, but she could still feel him watching her out of the side of his eye.

“If I said any of those things, would you believe them? And would it even matter? It is not as if you would take me back home,” she said.

The car jolted to a stop. He turned at the waist and braced her with his grip on her shoulders. “I will never take you against your will. Never. I am not about that. I want you to want this, too. I want your body vibrating with excitement and unadulterated bliss. I will find a way to get those reactions from you if it forces me to rip my bones out of my body. That is how committed I am to you.”

She dropped her gaze at his lap. She did not mean to. Her eyes just went there to his prominent bulge.

“Do you desire me that much?” She kept staring.

“I desire you more than a man should. You”—he swallowed hard—“will be my unending addiction I shall never break free from.”

CONTENT WARNING — This story contains scenes of an explicit, erotic nature and is intended for adults, 18+. Story includes anal sex (use of implements in the anus as makeshift butt plug toys), bondage, crude language, dubious consent and a primitive type of Dom/sub arrangement involving consensual sex. There is mention of rape and abortion—both more than once, but it is not shown. There is an attempted, unsuccessful rape scene that is thwarted. There are also punishment scenes with whipping and spanking some might find offensive, along with violence with fist fights. Characters portrayed are 18 or older.

Genre| Historical Erotica
Expected Release Date|December 29th 2013


Chanse Lowell grew up in the desert southwest and still lives there with her husband, children, and pet cactus. She’s addicted to three things—reading erotica, writing erotica and sandwiches with a side of erotica to aid with digestion. She grew up watching programs with science fiction and historical fiction themes, and is determined she can combine her three favorite genres, creating a new breed of novel with scifi, historical and smut sandwiched in the middle.

The last thing she ever thought she’d do was pursue her dream to be a writer since her family tends to keep her busy. When she was introduced to fan fiction, she realized she wanted to see more science fiction and historical fiction to fill in the gap with lots of naughtiness thrown in, of course. Her true passion is creating her own worlds from scratch, letting her imagination go and take her to another place.

Having recently entered the BDSM lifestyle and discovering she’s a submissive herself has opened her eyes to how few stories there are exploring the softer side of the lifestyle. She enjoys chatting online with others with similar kinky interests and has advisers in the lifestyle that help make sure her stories remain true and don’t veer off into outer space. Although aliens probably enjoy kink, too, since they like to dress in rubber fetish-wear while traveling. At least that’s her argument for why her new genre she’s created is valid.

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At the age of thirteen, Angelina Clark followed in the footsteps of her ancestors by casting an Appalachian love spell, which promised she would blossom into a beautiful and gifted woman who would find her true love. A young Angelina had been thrilled to participate in the sacred ritual, but through the years, her father’s untimely death and her mother’s failing health have shaken Angelina’s magical faith to its core. As her twenty-first birthday approaches, she refuses to practice her supernatural gifts and no longer believes in the love charm.

That is, until Dylan Thomas arrives on her front porch.

Dylan, a Nashville writer, travels to the mountain town of Maple Ridge to unearth the family’s supernatural secrets. While her clairvoyant mother is convinced that Dylan is her daughter’s soul mate, Angelina refuses to see the nosy reporter as anything more than a nuisance.

Despite their constant bickering, sparks fly.

Dylan admits he feels strangely drawn to Angelina and is in no hurry to leave Maple Ridge or publish his magazine article. Fearful that his emotions are being influenced by the spell, a stubborn Angelina struggles to fight her own budding attraction to the reporter.

The two inevitably grow closer just as her mother’s health begins to deteriorate, and Angelina is faced with the possibility of selling the family’s music shop to pay the mounting medical expenses. Desperate to help the woman he loves, Dylan explores his own family tree and finds support from an unlikely source. Can he finally prove his love is real—spell or no spell?

A story filled with love, friendship, family, and just a hint of Appalachian magic, Mountain Charm will leave you spellbound.

Genre| New Adult/ Supernatural
Expected Release Date| July 2nd 2013


“It’s your birthday?” Dylan asked.

“Yes, and it was blissfully uneventful until you showed up.”

“Beautiful and infuriating,” Dylan muttered. “Look, Angelina, I was just given this assignment yesterday. I don’t have a clue about Appalachian magic tricks or devil-worshipping or whatever it is you do up in these mountains, but I have a story to write. Just let me interview you and your mom, and I’ll be back on the interstate before you can say abracadabra.”

Instead of pointing out just how ignorant he sounded, Angelina decided what he truly needed was a strong dose of fear.

“Actually, I do have something you need to see. A family heirloom. Wait here?”

Excited for any useful information, Dylan’s eyes lit up and he nodded enthusiastically. Once again, those good manners kicked in, and Dylan opened the door for her.

Angelina raced inside the house. She hadn’t touched it in years, but she still remembered where her father kept the key to the case. She grabbed what she needed and quickly made her way back out to the porch, letting the screen door slam behind her.

Dylan jumped out of his chair. “What the hell?”

Angelina lifted the rifle and pointed it straight at him. He didn’t need to know the safety was on—or that the chamber was empty.

“This is a Remington, passed down from my father and his father, also known as an Appalachian magic wand. Just watch. It’s going to make you disappear.”

Angelina thought it was almost comical, hearing him curse and watching him leap off the porch. All the commotion caused her dog to chase after him, which only made Dylan sprint faster until he reached the sanctuary of his vehicle.

“Are you insane?” Dylan yelled.

“I tend to get a little crazy when someone trespasses on my property. Leave my family alone and don’t come back!”

He slammed the door and had to do some fancy maneuvering to get around her car, but within seconds, the only sounds Angelina could hear were Dylan’s squealing tires, her dog’s noisy bark, and her mother’s hearty laughter.


Sydney Logan holds a Master’s degree in Elementary Education and lives in East Tennessee. With the 2012 release of her novel, Lessons Learned, she made the transition from bookworm to author. Her second book, Mountain Charm, was released in 2013. She is also the author of three short stories. When she isn’t writing, Sydney enjoys playing piano and relaxing on her porch with her wonderful husband and their very spoiled cat.

As the Newlyweds embark on the erotic adventure of their honeymoon the sexual tension threatens to bubble over. They have endured a selfimposed sex embargo, part of an erotic pact that dares the Bride to expose her gorgeous body publicly; a pact designed to add a little fire to their honeymoon.

The Bride is full of life and energy, “…exquisite, still cocooned in the flowing white lie, a sterile illusion betrayed by her green eyes, a sparkling window to a soul exploding in colour.”

Erotic sparks begin to fly from the moment they are in the limo to the airport and continue throughout their international flight as they tease each other with scorching erotic fantasies and confessions.

Little do they know it will ignite an erotic inferno.

The enigmatic Groom is torn between his erotic fantasies of wifewatching and his possessive tendencies towards control and jealousy and his Bride knows it.

The Bride nervously fulfils her dare and finds her exhibitionism surprisingly fulfilling. Her Groom hahoped it would give her selfimage a boost and him a thrill but he gets more than he bargained for.

The Bride rebelliously fuels the inner battle in her new husband when they meet the charismatic alpha male Lancelot and the desirable Paulo, drawing her into an exploration of her own long suppressed erotic desires and sexual taboos.

Lancelot seems to understand her hidden needs better than she does and enjoys the challenge of forcing her astray, “a wedding ring is the ultimate sex toy and you already have one of them.”

Sexual boundaries are tested and then smashed as the Bride is taken to new erotic heights. “Inch by meaty inch they drag her to the peak of her private Everest.”

And what of her Groom, handcuffed and cuckolded, will his inner conflict destroy him? Will this white hot erotic affair destroy their one day old marriage?

Genre| Erotica
Expected Release Date| 12.5.13


And when we finally hit our hotel room, exhausted, we had not slept at all on the plane and we are both acutely aware of the terms of the dare so we abstain, enjoying the burn. It sharpened our edge.

We had purchased a white one piece swimsuit tagged “Warning, fabric becomes see through when wet.” Unknown to Marcella I had painstakingly cut away the lining in the crotch designed to protect her modesty. I do my best to distract her by kissing and fondling her as she pulls on the swimsuit hoping she won’t notice the absence of the lining.

If she did notice, she didn’t protest.

Marcella is nervous and aroused as she walks along the beach with me trailing anonymously some distance behind.

I admire her audacity as she spreads her towel amidst a “Target Rich Environment” of fit looking men.

I settle down about twenty meters away, as agreed, to hide our connection.

I watch as she timidly approaches the waves, even dry, the fabric was fairly transparent and men are straining their eyes to soak in the delights of her body. Marcella emerges from the water a short while later. She drops back into the water as soon as she sees just how see through her swimsuit has become.

Taking a deep breath, she holds her head up high and her shoulders back as she walks up the beach, fighting back the urge to run. Marcella is hyper-aware that every detail of her body is on display, from her standing out pink nipples to the miniscule strip of short dark hair running vertically upwards from the top of the crease in her mound; an exclamation mark!

Her cheeks and neck blush on the redder side of pink, embarrassed but demure.

She is stunning.

She averts her eyes, only occasionally meeting the lustful looks of the admiring men with her fluorescent green eyes.

Laying on her back propped up on her elbows she spreads her legs just enough for her show. Men, trying to look casual, circle for a closer look.

Audacious men approach her at different times, I am deaf to what is said but I can see the erections they are sporting. So could Marcella, she wasn’t even pretending not to look. I knew she would be wet.

A twinge of jealousy pulls on my heart strings at the same time squeezing my balls as I watch some of these strangers make some obviously lewd suggestions to my blushing Bride.

The plan was that Marcella would signal me when she had had enough. The signal never came.

When a muscular Latino looking stud with long dark hair drops his towel in front of her to reveal his complete nudity, Marcella ogles his stallion-like cock and approves his request to join her.

This was not part of the plan. She must have asked him to wait and she hurries in for a very quick dip just to freshen the transparency to make sure he gets the full visual. Then on her return, with him sitting, her standing, she makes a big pretence of drying her hair with a towel, displaying her pussy at eye level just in front of his face.

Even from side on I can see his big knob climbing over his thigh like the sun rising over the horizon. Jealousy wraps its big fist around my stomach, and clenches when Marcie looks, and looks, and looks again at his stiff cock and sits down on his towel close beside him.

Her head turns slowly my way to check if I am watching, I see the glance coming and look away quickly, looking disinterested not wanting to betray the battle I am waging within to contain my jealousy.

Marcella casually drops her towel in his lap and when she licks her palm and secretes her hand under the towel I know she is saying a tactile “hello” to his cock.

My stomach is practicing judo breakfalls. Picking itself up then slamming itself back down on the ground.

When he spreads the towel out across her lap as well, I see her head tilt back and her hips tilt forward and know that his fingers are probing her cunt.

Now my lungs down tools and refuse to do their job.

Angrily I ring her phone. “Yes I’m fine Dad” she says sarcastically, “no need to worry, gasp, I can handle it, gasp. I’m just rubbing some sunscreen in now. Giggle. Gasp. I’ll come soon. Bye Dad. Gasp.” She turns my way and glares.

He pulls out his phone and they probably exchange numbers. He takes Marcella’s phone puts it under the towel and hands it back to her. Then she takes his and puts it under the towel between her legs then gives it back.

Damn they are taking photos of their genitalia to for each other.

My heart takes a running dive off the springboard that my cock has become, bouncing high in the air, completing a triple piked somersault with a twist on the way down. Splash!

I pounce to my feet and stomp along the beach, a thunderstorm in my eyes as I pass the front of their feet. She metaphorically kicking sand in my face by pushing her towel from their laps exposing her fist wrapped around the shaft of his shiny cock and rapidly sliding up and down it. Her other hand covers his, urging his fingers deeper into her damp cunt. Mine was not the only radar that locked in on their heat-seeking hands either.

I wait, pacing back and forward further down the beach, still in sight, steaming. When she finally joins me, Marcella is giving me contrite little “am I bad” looks with her big green puppy eyes. As soon as she feels I have dropped my anger she holds a portion of the towel to my nose. The undeniable smell of a man’s come, and jealousy turns the vice on my balls.

“And did you?” I ask meekly.

“Come?” she asks, “not quite but I was sooo close,” she adds without a hint of remorse.

I make a mental note to delete his number from her phone before she could go back for more.

“Do you even know his name?” implying she should be ashamed.

“Paulo”, she replies with a “so there” kind of attitude.

‘Right Paulo your fucking number is gone baby!’ I think to myself. My jealousy transmutes to anger and I can’t contain it. “What the hell? You are cheating on me and we haven’t even been married a day.”

“Whoa!” she says, as if trying to pull up a bolting horse. “It’s what you wanted isn’t it?”

She is right I had fantasized about seeing her with another man but I had never for a moment thought it might happen. I had urged her to expose herself on the beach but I thought I would have more control. I realise I have no control.

Marcella fires at me, “What do you fucking want from me? What does this fucking marriage mean anyway?”

“There has to be rules”, I say.

“Fine! Rules. What fucking rules? Your rules for me? Is that it? What if I want my rules for you?” she snaps.

“Um I think we should have THE rules.” I am struggling, searching for calm logic.

“Yeah, well who decides THE rules? The law? Fucking society? The church? I want NO fucking rules”, Marcella counter-punches.

“What about we have OUR rules, we can negotiate them?” I offer weakly.

“Fuck off” she says, and she fucked off.


My suffering for my art began at a tender age when I first started my research into erotica undressing a Barbie doll to explore her firm but nippleless breasts, resulting in a fair slapping from my mother when she caught me in the act.

Only temporarily deterred, puberty found me secretly and enthusiastically studying the erotic novels my parents kept hidden in their sock drawers.

By my estimate I have dedicated around 40,000 hours to erotic fantasies, um, research, since those first tentative steps.

The Bride Unbridled is my first novella, born from the seed Barbie helped plant all those years ago and which I have diligently nourished daily ever since.

The Bride Unbridled is the beginning of a series of Transformational Erotica.



I can be contacted by email at damon.starc@gmail.com and welcome constructive feedback and suggestions.

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For longer than he can remember, reclusive writer, Joshua Bennett has been trapped in a prison of his own making by the memories of his past. Traumatized and isolated, he’s spent his days living a quiet, lonely existence, his only companion his dog, Bear.

Pain and Solitude are all he knows, what he’s accepted to be his life, until one dark night, one huge storm, and one ice patch change his course forever.

When he finds an unconscious woman at his doorstep, Joshua Bennet has no choice but to bring the woman into his home and away from the dangerous elements that threaten to claim her life.

A stranger to herself and the man watching her, the woman has no memory, no identification, and no idea how she got there.

 Trapped by the storm and isolated from the outside world, they both learn what it means to trust and love, slowly letting each other in and breaking down barriers.

Can they heal each other completely before the outside world threatens to shatter the fragile peace of their newly discovered love, and tears them apart?

Genre| Contemporary Romance
Expected Release Date| 11.25.13


Melanie Moreland lives a happy and content life in a quiet area of Ontario with her husband and fur children. Nothing means more to her than her friends and family, and she cherishes every moment spent with them.

Known as the quiet one with the big laugh, Melanie works for the sporting teams of a local university. Her (box) office job, while demanding, is rewarding as she cheers on her team to victory.

While seriously addicted to coffee, and somewhat challenged with all things computer-related and technical, she relishes baking, cooking, and trying new recipes for people to sample. She loves to throw dinner parties and socialize, and also enjoys travelling, here and abroad, but finds coming home is always the best part of any trip.

Melanie delights in writing a good romance story with some bumps along the way, but is a true believer in happily ever after. When her head isn’t buried in a book, it is bent over a keyboard, furiously typing away as her characters dictate their creative storylines to her even more inspired tales, for all to enjoy.

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