Stories included in this set
Made for Two by Kim Carmichael
Darkest Dreams by Solera Winters
Perfect Fit by Sascha Illyvich
Playtime by Dorothy F. Shaw
Menage by Monday Louisa Bacio
Poems by Chelle
Silently, while cloaking his presence, he slipped inside the cave and waved the dream scarf over them. They yawned, and their eyes glazed. The torchlight illuminated their smooth skin, skimming each contour, Kiernan’s hard muscles and Nyx’s soft curves. They presented a picture the god of dreams had only imagined in the darkest nights. So long he had wished for the opportunity, and at last he’d found it. While a twinge of guilt fluttered through his mind, he justified his actions. After all, if he’d let them continue their discussion, they’d only end up arguing. Zeus’s instructions were clear. He wanted them back on earth performing their nightly duties. A quarrel between the gods would never allow that to happen, not after Nyx had gone missing.
Reve’s attentions might offer exactly the distraction the two needed as they re-accustomed themselves to one another. He floated through the cave, taking time to admire both gods. In their current dream-state, their expressions relaxed and the desire they shared returned to the surface. Before Reve could take a breath, Nyx and Kiernan embraced, sliding their hands over one another’s bodies. Their passion became even more apparent when they let their guard down. This was how he envisioned them. Heat sparked in his loins. Her lengthy midnight blue locks and Kiernan’s long black hair flowed over them in a subtle game of hide and seek, covering a shoulder here and a breast there before each god lifted their hands to brush back the strands of the other. Reve hovered over them, waiting for just the right moment to reveal his presence.
She gave them a moment to take her in. Two sets of hands exploring her body, two mouths kissing her and her one body flooding with intense need. None of them could wait much longer. “I do see one problem.” Out of the corner of her eye she spied one of her daggers hanging on the wall and wrapped her fingers around the handle. In a sudden move she spun back toward them, keeping the weapon behind her.
“What might that be?” With glazed over eyes, Markov reached out for her.
“Both of you are falling way behind.” A smile across her face, she revealed the dagger, her desire only piquing when neither male moved back.
“Is this part of Mersennian foreplay?” Pell raised his eyebrows.
“You both know I’m more than Mersennian.” She pushed away from the wall and with exacting precision cut a slit up Pell’s shirt. “You have too many clothes on.”
“Holy hell.” He tore the shirt off and reached for the waist of his pants. “Is this better?”
“Keep going.” She turned her attention to Markov.
He held his shirt out.
“Never assume.” With a chuckle she aimed for the bulge in his pants and cut his belt in two.
“What might that be?” With glazed over eyes, Markov reached out for her.
“Both of you are falling way behind.” A smile across her face, she revealed the dagger, her desire only piquing when neither male moved back.
“Is this part of Mersennian foreplay?” Pell raised his eyebrows.
“You both know I’m more than Mersennian.” She pushed away from the wall and with exacting precision cut a slit up Pell’s shirt. “You have too many clothes on.”
“Holy hell.” He tore the shirt off and reached for the waist of his pants. “Is this better?”
“Keep going.” She turned her attention to Markov.
He held his shirt out.
“Never assume.” With a chuckle she aimed for the bulge in his pants and cut his belt in two.
.99 Cents
About the Authors
Kim Carmichael began writing eight years ago when her need for graphic sex scenes and love of happy endings inspired her to create her own. She has a weakness for bad boys and techno geeks, and married her own computer whiz after he proved he could keep her all her gadgets running. When not writing, she can usually be found slathered in sunscreen trolling Los Angeles and helping top doctors build their practices.
I started writing 13 years ago. My erotic romances have been listed under the Night Owl Romance and Road to Romance’s Recommended read list, as well nominated for a CAPA by The Romance Studio
Former host of the Unnamed Romance Show on Radio Dentata and I continue to write for Decadent Publishing, Sizzler Editions and Total E-bound.
The stirrings of the potential author within Dorothy F. Shaw became evident when she first blogged a detailed account of how she met and married her husband. Shortly after she stumbled, quite accidentally, into writing poetry. Poetry begat short stories. Short stories gave way to her novels.
Evident from the very beginning was her voice as an author that is welcoming, real and charming, packed with wit and sarcasm. Although she's a sucker for a heart wrenching romance with no happy ending, she does give her readers the happy ending they desire. But her stories will always include slightly broken people forming relationships full of heartbreak, pain and angst along the way, as well as plenty of sharp humor and sex appeal. As she sees it, the journey is the best part.
When Dorothy's not writing, she's a mother, friend to many and a corporate VP. When asked about her MANY tattoos, she'll tell you she has only one. She loves Sunday dinners with her family and friends in her home, prefers riding her motorcycle.
She truly lives and loves in Technicolor!
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