But Anaya is not the only woman on whom Owen is having a strange, otherworldly effect. As Owen goes about his day, odd events swirl around him. His landlady and her daughter are being drawn into his wake, and what role will a former high-school flame and a mysterious older woman play during this hot and steamy…Satyrday Afternoon?
How will Owen adjust? Will he embrace his destiny as a god's chosen vessel? Or will he deny the pleasures of the flesh which are waiting for him on…Satyrday Night?
~~~~~ Excerpt ~~~~~
Isabel took a sip of wine, her eyes bright. This was how things were meant to be. Owen beside her as her friend. Soon to be in her bed as her lover.
“Oh!” Owen said, brightening. “It looks like Anaya and I might be going out sometime soon.”
“Really?” Isabel asked. She had to close her eyes briefly as a tide of jealousy surged through her, bitter as gall. How dare she try to steal my Owen away from me! She smiled at him, hiding her pain. “How did that happen?”
Owen laughed. “God only knows. We were talking in the office this morning and something just...clicked...between us.” He opened his mouth as if to continue, but dropped his head, blushing as he took another bite of food.
Below the table, a knuckle cracked as she clenched her fist. She raised her shaking hand and took another sip of wine.
Filthy tramp! I know what she did. She pulled down her shirt and flashed her Indian tits at him and he couldn't help himself.
He's mine, damn it. Mine!
She took a last bite of rice, then reached for a piece of bread, sopping up the the juice on her plate.
Two can play your game, Anaya. Without even thinking, she pulled the straps of her dress down, letting the top half of her garment fall to her waist...
~~~~~ Excerpt ~~~~~
Phoebe sighed. “Owen, sometimes humans really are most remarkably dense.
“Did you really think you could accept the gifts you have been given, go on with your life, and not have to give something in return? For everything there is a price.”
“And what price will I have to pay?” Owen asked tensely.
“Why, belief, dear child. Faith. Eventually, possibly, priesthood. Fortunately,” she said, the smile in her voice clear, “the laws of your nation are amazingly lax. You can set yourself up as a priest of Bacchus and the only thing that will happen is that people will look at you a bit strangely.
“Some of the women you...serve...will be drawn to you. And your new faith. Anaya. Isabel. Samara. Or Wendy, for example. There's a lusty piece of ass. I wish I had known her when I was male. She would be a perfect choice to help lead your new temple. She could draw in converts by the dozen. Male and female both.”
Owen's temper, already frayed, abruptly snapped. “This is ridiculous!” he shouted. “I am not a priest. I am not going to start a church worshiping some long-gone Greek god. I am not going to have a herd of horny women around me who worship Bacchus and bring in converts.”
Phoebe's voice grew cold. “You don't want it, boy? Fine. Take off the bracelet. Throw it away. Throw it all away. Go back to your tedious, soul-sucking job. Beg for hours as a delivery boy, scrape for tips. Live one step up from poverty, if you can.
“Get your precious diploma. Find a job. Marry a woman with goals as small and petty as your own. Accept mediocrity. Deny the possibility of beauty and power and passion.
“And for the rest of your life, you'll always wonder.
~~~~~ Excerpt ~~~~~
Twenty minute's work with a real shovel put the sidewalk in order, though Nate suspected the whipping wind would drift it all over again with blowing snow before sunrise. Frowning, he took a look at the driveway. Full dark had fallen and cold hard stars glittered in the ink-black sky. He shivered and pulled his cap down tighter around his ears. In weather like this it was easy to believe some of the more lurid tales from American history, where unprepared settlers had to resort to cannibalism to survive.
He re-entered the house, stamping the snow off his boots. “Miss McCormick?” he called. “Heather? I'm back.”
“In here,” her voice called. He followed it down the hallway to a door, cracked open. He tapped on it. “Come in, Nate.”
He opened the door, and stopped, staring.
She was dressed in a robe out of one of her films. No, he quickly corrected himself. She never wore anything that good in any of her films. Not the ones I saw, at least. Rather, it was a gown out of one of his fantasies. Sheer and white, it glittered in the dim light of the bedside lamp, tiny sequins throwing sparks back into his awestruck gaze. It was long, reaching down to her ankles, but the transparent, gauze-like material both hid and revealed her incredible body. He could see her shadowy curves, moving under the cloth like sunken treasure in a deep ocean.
He took a deep breath. He would not, would not, embarrass himself. “Feeling better?”
“Much better,” she smiled. She took a few steps towards him. “Thank you for watching out for me. It was stupid to go out to shovel the walk in weather like this. If I had been thinking straight, I wouldn't have tried it. And I definitely would have stopped once I realized I didn't have the right clothes or shovel to do the job. But I get so damn stubborn sometimes and can't admit I'm making a mistake.”
He felt one side of his mouth curl up in a lopsided smile. “I'm familiar with the idea. I think half the population of South Dakota is descended from people who were too dang mule-headed to realize that living here was a bad choice.”
“Hmmm,” she smiled. She took another slow step towards him. The movement left her only a foot or so away. He wanted to retreat, but his feet seemed frozen in place.
She lifted her hand and let it trace, lingeringly, over the thick sweater he was wearing. “Which leaves us with the question of how to suitably reward you, my hero.”
He swallowed. “Heather. Please. Stop it. I'm not an idiot. I know this isn't one of your films, where the randy housewife gets turned on as soon as the pizza man knocks on the door. Don't tease me this way.”
“No, it's not one of my films.” She looped her arms around his neck and smiled up at him. “It's better. Should I tell you the story? A lonely woman moves to a town where she doesn't know anyone. She meets a handsome young man who helps her when he could have let her suffer the consequences of her own foolishness. When she is taking a shower, her body recovering from the ordeal, she realizes she is more aroused than she has been in years. Maybe the fact that she could have died has made her realize just how short life is, and how you should reach for happiness when you have the chance. Or maybe she's just a naturally horny woman whose desires have been unnaturally stunted over the past several years.
“Whatever the case may be, she wants you, Nate.
“Do you want me?”
Charlie Griffin had sworn to save himself for marriage. When he met hot, sexy Elena Rodriguez, he thought his prayers had been answered. But then Elena is cruelly taken away from him on their wedding night. Succumbing to despair, Charlie sinks into depression. But he hasn't counted on the willpower of one young woman. Jasmine, Elena's daughter, won't let him throw his life away. She will do anything to claim the love of "My Virgin Daddy."
~~~~~ PG Excerpt ~~~~~
Charlie was shivering with pleasure and fear. This was not what he had imagined his first time would be like. Rather than the culmination of weeks of planning after a wedding, he was being seduced by his dead wife's daughter. His eyes feasted on her incredible body, seeing for the first time what he had known unwillingly. Long, slim legs melded into a pair of subtly curved hips, the white lace of her high-cut panties emphasizing her slender waist. Above, her stomach was flat, the dimple of her navel winking at him saucily. The delicate fan of her ribs morphed irresistibly into the lovely curves of her breasts, standing out high and proud from the wall of her chest, obviously not needing the negligible support of her filmy bra.
“Thirty-six C,” she said, catching his look. “A little smaller than Mama's, but then,” she shrugged, “I haven't had any babies yet. They'll probably get a bit bigger when I do.”
“It's all right, Charlie,” she said. “Men like to know.” She stepped closer, until he could feel the heat of her body. “Would you like to go to my room?” she asked quietly.
She shook her head. “Too many memories. I know Mama never slept with you there, but...it would still feel like I was trying to take her place.
“I'm not, you know.” Her face, looking up into his, was solemn. “I know I'm not her. I'm me. But I'm a me who loves you, Charlie. And I don't want you to hurt anymore.” She shook her head. “I'm sorry. I'm screwing this up. I just...”
Greatly daring, Charlie laid his fingers across her full, kissable lips. His heart was hammering in his chest. Slowly, carefully, he enfolded his stepdaughter in his arms, until their bodies were pressed together. He could feel her soft curves against his bare chest. His arousal was an iron bar inside his slacks, pressing against her bare belly. Jasmine didn't flinch away. Instead, she made a low, growling noise deep in her throat, and her hands reached around him to grab his ass, pulling them even closer together.
Her eyes, when they met his, were shining. “Are you ready?”
“I think so.”
But he soon discovers that greedy men have dammed Lily's river, using her strength in pursuit of their own selfish needs. He’s galvanized to desperate action…but will he be able to save her, or is it too late?
~~~~~ Excerpt ~~~~~
Charlie followed her as she turned, and the breeze brought the scent of her hair to his nose. He shifted uncomfortably. Over the past year he had been growing more and more aware of Lily's physical presence during their time together. In fact, it was now a rare day when he did not have to duck into the barn after spending time with her and bring himself to shuddering release.
Today Lily was wearing a dress which seemed to incorporate all the flowers of spring. Thousands of delicate petals were somehow woven together into a multi-hued pastel garment which clung to her body like a second skin. From his vantage point beside her, he could peek down the open neckline and see the swells of her growing breasts.
She turned back towards him, her eyes wicked, and he flushed crimson.
“What were you looking at, naughty little boy?”
“I'm not little anymore,” he said, stung by her tone. “I'm taller than you are now.” Indeed, that had been a day to savor last autumn, when he finally passed her in height.
Lily flipped a hand dismissively. “All little boys are the same. They all want what they can't have.”
Hardly daring to breathe, Charlie reached out his hand and took hers, their fingers entwining. “I'm not like other boys,” he said.
She turned her head and looked deep into his eyes. He sank into them, feeling as if he were drowning. She cupped his cheeks in her tan hands, the cool skin a balm on his hot face.
“No, you're not. But neither am I like other girls, Charlie,” she said sadly. “Don't expect me to give you what they can.” Soft as a whisper, her lips brushed his cheek, making him burn.
Suddenly, she bounced to her feet, then dove into the pool, giving him a heart-stopping glimpse of her long legs before she sliced into the water. She bobbed to the surface, her eyes laughing. “Come in for a swim!”
He peeled off his shirt and set it aside on the warm grass. He then climbed up the path to the waterfall. He backed away a few steps, then charged forward, his bare feet slapping against sun-warmed stone. For an instant he flew through the air, then hit the water with a tremendous splash, throwing spray in all directions.
He came to the surface with a grin, watching as Lily wiped water from her streaming face. Treading water, he took in her delicate, finely-carved features, blossoming like a flower in the sun.
When she is grown, she will be beautiful, he thought with sudden prescience. I should tell her. Tell her how I feel.
He took a deep breath and was at her side in a few strokes. As promised, Lily had been a good teacher, and he was a strong swimmer, even if he had never been in a body of water bigger than her pool.
He stopped only a few inches away from her. Reaching through the water, he set his hands on her hips, feeling her muscles flex as their legs slowly kicked in the clear water, occasionally brushing each other. He looked into her eyes, trying to come up with the right words.
“Lily. Lilaea.” He took a deep breath. “I-”
“There you are,” came a voice from behind him. He spun in the water, seeing Maggie standing on the riverbank. She made a disgusted face. “Get out of the creek and into your shirt and shoes, Charlie. Mama's been calling you for supper for the past twenty minutes.”
Swearing under his breath, Charlie turned back to Lily, but she was gone.
~~~~~ Excerpt ~~~~~
“Our Neighbor’s A Porn Star” by Alana Church – Heather Fawxx moved to a small town in the hopes that her adult-film past wouldn't follow her. But her hopes were dashed when she was immediately recognized by her new neighbors. Now, the sparks of desire are igniting between her and sexy bi-curious Barbara. One thing is sure: Life is interesting when your neighbor's a porn star!“Burning Love From A Queen Of Snow” by Ashley Berry – Elena could think of nothing worse than marrying a prince from the frozen north. But that was before she met the prince’s mother, Queen Janice Hendry, who burns passion that no northern blizzard can quell. For Elena to join the royal family, she must pass three of the Queen’s intimate, sensual tests. Elena loves playing with girls, but will she have what it takes to satisfy a Queen of snow?
“Mrs. Wilson’s Cure for Headstrong Ladies & Hysterical Wives” by Veronica Sloan – All Hubert wanted was an obedient wife that could zip her lip and be a pretty little homemaker. His Minnie sure is pretty, but she's as obedient as a feral cat! She's always mouthing off, breaking vases, and screaming about "her place" in a man's world. When she crashes his Rolls Royce Phantom II, that's the very last straw! Declaring his wife hysterical, Hubert takes her to the one woman that can cure any headstrong dame. Little does he know, Mrs. Wilson has zero interest in "fixing" Minnie and every intention of awakening her lesbian lust!
“A Woman’s Touch” by Laura Lovecraft – Linda never had any interest in women until she walked in on two of them having sex in a bathroom. Now women are all she thinks about, but Linda is nervous and only fantasizes about it. Linda's favorite fantasy is of her sexy masseuse Paula. Her massages are the highlight of her week and this one is going to be even more special because Paula knows just what Linda needs: a woman's touch!
Phaedra Laskaris doesn't want a man. But since the strange statue crossed her path, her will has not been her own. Her eyes are straying to her young tenant, Nick. And one amazing night she gains a new body, a new purpose, and Nick becomes Aphrodite's Lover!
~~~~~ Excerpt ~~~~~
She barely remembered the drive home. By the time she arrived back at her apartment, her slacks were unzipped and gaping wide. At every stoplight her hands had dipped helplessly below the waistband.
She stumbled up the stairs to the apartment she shared with Nikki, empty to everything but the insatiable need inside her. Her fingers fumbled as she tried to slot the key into the lock, and once inside, she left her clothes behind her as she made a beeline for the bedroom. By the time she pushed open the door to her bedroom, her slacks were down to her knees, and she half-hopped, half-hobbled to the bed, where the shoved them down and off her legs with quick jerks of her arms.
She laid back with a groan, her eyes closed. This was less a desire than a need, a panting need to climax.
Goddess...Goddess, please. I need...I need...
~I can grant you what you wish,~ a voice seemed to murmur in her ears. ~But there will be a price. There always is. Great gifts demand great sacrifices.~
“Anything,” she panted. “Please!”
~So be it.~
It started at the same time as her climax, that too-seldom-experienced feeling of joyous release. As the muscles of her belly and womb tensed and relaxed, as her mind spiraled upward in bliss, the pounding heartbeat in her ears and the thrusting rhythm of her fingers began to merge.
And her body changed.
She first noticed it in her breasts. Looking down over her chest to the slightly rounded expanse of her belly, she gasped. Her breasts were growing. The skin over her chest seemed to tighten, then expand, her flat, saggy bags blossoming with every breath. As she watched, disbelieving, the new flesh spilled up and over her clutching hands. They grew in a pulsing rhythm, each heartbeat increasing her bust-size. She filled her hands with them, as if she could stop the growth, somehow force her body back into its flat-chested rut. But the feel of her hot fingers made her tilt her head back and moan in wanton pleasure.
And that was not the only change. Her entire body was slowly transforming before her very eyes. Her skin grew richer, smoother, darker, losing its sallow hue. It almost seemed to glow in the dim light of the room. The low rise of her belly sank, her navel becoming a wonderful dimple in a smooth plane of taut skin. While her waist drew in, her hips grew slightly, the jutting bones of her pelvis now clothed with sleek flesh, wonderfully curved. Her thighs were more attractive as well, no longer skinny, but subtly different, drawing the eye.
Pain spiked in her left side, and her head spun as she gasped in agony. Then her eyes filled with sudden tears. Her scars, her burn marks, the physical residue of a fear-filled night thirty years in the past, were disappearing. Ropy, knotted masses of skin were transformed into unmarred flesh, smooth and sensitive as a child's. Even as she watched, the last traces of her burns faded away.
And then it stopped. She lay for a moment on her bed, gasping in confusion and sudden, heart-stopping wonder.
A voice spoke in her mind, pure and clear and filled with vast amusement. ~Well, my handmaiden? Do you approve of my work?~Phaedra Laskaris fainted dead away.
But now their good-looking history teacher has been appointed the temporary coach of the volleyball team. Will these lusty young ladies be able to reach their ultimate goal, and drag Coach Glassman into bed?
~~~~~ Excerpt ~~~~~
He looked up from his notes in the small coach's office next to the locker room. The practice had gone well, and he was thinking about making another change to the starting lineup. Consuela Barton, a tiny Filipina girl who had been adopted and brought to America by her childless parents, had thrown her body around with reckless abandon. Alan thought she might replace one of the girls on the back line.
Tabitha Harrington stood in the doorway, Stacie Reynolds looking over her shoulder.
“What can I do for you, Tabby?” He stood up, then frowned. “I thought everyone had left.”
Tabby nodded. “We waited until everyone else was gone,” she said. “I didn't want anyone to hear what I had to say to you.
“I wanted to thank you,” she said, voice trembling a little. “No teacher has ever stood up for me like you did today. Mr. Walton certainly wouldn't have.”
Alan sat on the edge of his desk, putting his eyes nearly level with the redhead. “Well, I can't speak for the rest of the staff. A lot of them are old and set in their ways.”
“More like fossilized,” said Stacie from her position in the doorway.
“But I won't let anyone use your...your sexual orientation as a way to mock you, any more than I would let someone make racist remarks about Jasmine or Consuela.”
“I know you won't,” said Tabitha. She took another step into the room, then paused for a moment. Alan regretted the fact that his lower body was exposed.
That's all you need. To get an erection and for these two to see it and report you. He shifted uncomfortably, trying to think of an excuse to quickly usher the two beautiful girls out of his office.
Suddenly, Tabby moved to his side and hugged him. He could feel her breasts pressing against his arm and her muscled legs were warm at his side. Before he could react she had raised her face and kissed him on the cheek.
“Thank you,” she whispered, her dark blue eyes shining. “I mean it.”
Alan cleared his throat nervously. “Tabby, I appreciate your…gratitude, but this isn't really appropriate,” he stammered.
“I understand,” she said softly, backing away. Although her voice was contrite, he thought he could detect the hint of a smirk in the curve of her lips.
Before he could say anything else, Stacie had entered the office, which was becoming distinctly crowded.
“It's really not fair,” she remarked. “I'm the one who has the hots for you, so why does she get to kiss you first?” Shouldering Tabby aside, she stepped into the vee of Alan's sitting legs, so close he could feel her small, exquisitely formed breasts through the cloth separating them. Leaning forward, she kissed him flush on the mouth, moaning softly. Her mouth opened quickly, her tongue swiping across his lips, as if she was sampling how he tasted.
Unable to respond, Alan blinked as she pulled away slightly. Gasping, he realized she had her hands on his thighs, her fingers slowly working their way towards his groin.
He came to his senses, almost panicking. “You have to leave,” he hissed. “Now. If someone saw this I'd be fired, and no school district would ever hire me again.”
Stacie opened her mouth, but Alan cut her off. Gently, but firmly, he removed her hand from his legs. “You're putting my entire future at risk, Stacie. Please stop.
“Go home. This never happened.”
Meanwhile, the spell of the succubus is having an effect on other members of Rachel's household. Goaded by urges he finds shameful and perverse, Alex finds love and acceptance in Maria's arms. And Sarah is being drawn to a new man in her life. Will they find happiness together? Or will their forbidden love doom them all? One thing is certain. When you look into the eyes of a succubus, you may see some Dark Reflections.
~~~~~ Excerpt ~~~~~
Rachel frowned. The fact that Maria and Jeremy and the kids weren't going to turn into her slaves was a relief. As was the fact that even a being as obviously sex-focused as Althea had a moral center, even if that center seemed to be no more than Thou shalt not hurt anyone you don't have to and Thou shalt not bang an unwilling partner.
“That's pretty much all it is,” Althea said cheerfully. “But I don't take stuff that isn't mine, either. Most people are happy to give it to me anyway.” She smiled at Rachel's expression. “Hello? I'm in your head, remember? I know what you're thinking.” Her smile grew dark, deep, and wicked. “And such naughty thoughts you're having, Rachel. Jealous of Maria when I suggest setting her up with Alex? Who are you thinking should be in his bed, if not her?”
She patted her cheek. “Don't worry, I'm not judging you.” Her look drew inward and she rose from her seat on the grass, her body inhumanly graceful. “But we're running out of time. It's almost morning. And holding together this illusion for you is a drain on my power. I need you to do something for me, my handmaiden.”
Rachel sighed and stood. “What is it?”
“My body is missing. I need you to find it.
“Now, Rachel, go with my blessing.” Stooping, she laid a gentle kiss on her brow. Rachel's skin burned at her touch. “And wake up.”
With a start, Rachel opened her eyes. She was lying on her back. The covers had been pulled down to lie in a crumpled heap at the foot of the bed. Morning sunlight poured through the open windows, and the cotton curtains swayed in a soft spring breeze. More importantly, her husband was kissing her. From the warm feeling in her chest and groin, he had been arousing her for some time.
“Well, this is a wonderful way to wake up,” she murmured softly. She smiled down at her long-time lover and best friend. “Looking for someplace to hide your morning wood?” she teased.
Josh raised himself on his arms, moving forward so he could give her another good-morning kiss. “Amazing thing, the male body,” he said, when their lips parted. “No matter how many times you make love to a beautiful woman, it can't wait to do it again.”
She smiled at the compliment, looping her arms around his neck and drawing him down to her. How long had it been since they had spent a lazy morning in bed? Years, perhaps. For the first time in far too long, there were no urgent needs driving her. No cases to prepare for, no witnesses to depose, no briefs to write and file. If she and Josh wished, they could spend all day in bed.
~Ooh, that sounds nice. Yes, let's do that.~ Althea said.
Be quiet, you, Rachel said. Can't you leave me alone for a while?
~Actually, no. I can't. That's kind of the point of this whole exercise, isn't it? And just remember, the more you make love to Joshua, the quicker you will have the mental privacy you desire. Until then, get used to having company.~
She dragged her nails up his back, tickling her husband, watching through hooded lids as his back arched under her touch. God, I've missed this. The feeling of power, even when he's on top of me, seemingly in control.
~Being a woman is wonderful, is it not? At least, when you control your own destiny. This is why my mother spurned Adam and God. She would not allow herself to become subordinate. A tool to be used.~
Tell me, she asked, is this thing with our secretions...catching? If Jeremy makes love to another woman, would she be affected?
~What, are you worried about mankind catching a case of universal horniness, as if it were some sort of awesome venereal disease?~ Althea's voice was teasing. ~Fortunately, no. It would have happened way before now. We are a lusty bunch, although there aren't many of us. You don't have to be worried about being Patient Zero in the great Sex Plague of 2016.~