Showing posts with label Merry Christmas Kitten. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Merry Christmas Kitten. Show all posts

Wednesday, November 29, 2017

Excerpt from Merry Christmas, Kitten by Nicole Austin

Part of the Naughty Beasts: Shifters, Vamps & Gargoyles, Oh My! anthology - Pre-order Now!

Contains 15 Shapeshifter, Vampire & Gargoyle Stories from bestselling authors writing as The Naughty Literati


Find it here:


Blurb:
Sirena Petra wants one thing for Christmas—an orgasm. And sex toy expert Kenyon Fort has exactly what the lion shifter needs to find more than just her happy place.


Copyright © Nicole Austin, 2014

Chapter One

Almost there. Just a little bit more.

Every muscle in Sirena Petra’s body stretched taut and she panted to draw much-needed oxygen into her burning lungs. Perspiration glistened on her skin as she writhed against black silk sheets, desperate to crest the plateau. Her need to orgasm had surpassed the crisis point and become painful agony.

Fumbling with the buttons beneath her fingertips, she shifted the silver vibrating marvel into overdrive. The device buzzed louder and metal beads in the shaft sprung to life, rotating against her sweet spot as devilish projections tormented her pulsing clitoris.

With her other hand, Sirena palmed a heavy breast and pinched her taut nipple. Fiery jolts of sensation arced between the two pleasure centers. Her body clenched, going statue-still for several heartbeats as she teetered on the edge of the precipice…

And once again fell flat without finding satisfaction.

She reached between trembling thighs, the still-humming toy creating a wet slurping sound as she pulled it from the tight clasp of her pussy. When she dropped it onto the bed, the plastic toy gave a halfhearted, weak jiggle and shiny silver balls slowed then ceased spinning as the motor wheezed, coughed and gave one final death rattle before falling silent.

All she wanted for Christmas was an orgasm or two. She didn’t think that was asking too much.

Cursing a blue streak, Sirena grabbed her cell phone from the nightstand and texted “911” to Kenyon Fort. Less than a minute later music from her favorite indie rock band filled the room. She slid her thumb over the touch screen and shivered as Kenyon’s rich smoke-and-whiskey voice glided across her sensitized body in a velvety caress.

“What did you break this time?”

“The expensive as hell Platinum Powerhouse,” she huffed. Oh, she hadn’t paid full price. Never did. She had a great deal worked out with Kenyon. He sold her toys at cost and she designed and maintained his website at a majorly discounted rate. Theirs was the perfect partnership.

Kenyon sighed his frustration. “Well, now you’re really screwed, Kitten.”

Her heart fluttered hearing his pet name for her but her gaze narrowed on the vibrator, brow furrowing with her irritation. “How so?”

“The Platinum Powerhouse was the big guns, Sirena. The last resort. You’ve tried all the strongest vibrators available. Hell, I made that one specifically for you.”

“So that means…” Her words trailed off and she swallowed hard.

“You’re shit out of luck,” Kenyon finished for her. “There is no vibrator that can survive the abuse you dish out.”

He muttered something under his breath she didn’t try to make out, all her thoughts wrapped up in her current dilemma. Major downside to the strength inherent in being a shape-shifting lioness—the strong contractions of her pelvic muscles. She’d strangled all her vibrators to an untimely death and had yet to find a living, breathing man who could get her where she needed to go during sex.

“But Ken—” She cringed at the plaintive tone of her voice. “What the hell am I going to do?” If only her kind weren’t so rare then she’d have a chance of finding a mate.

Sirena shook her head. She didn’t really want a mate. Male cats were either loners who never stayed in one place for long or polygamists who had a pride of women they fucked. They certainly weren’t committed to any one female. Her footloose and fancy free father stood as the perfect example, constantly shuffling around between eight lionesses who shared him. Sirena wanted children but had no desire to be a sister wife or a single parent trying to raise a shifter cub in a predominantly human society without the support of his or her father. No thanks!

“Have you considered trying a real cock? Because, damn, Sirena, I’ve got to be honest here. That powerful pussy of yours has become the star of my favorite fantasies.”

“Gee, Kenyon, now why didn’t I think of that?” Sirena sighed heavily. “Every real cock I’ve tried hasn’t lasted long enough. Size and shape don’t matter—neither do skill of the user. Even the porn star with the supposed legendary stamina wasn’t able to go the distance.”

Kenyon’s breathing quickened and he groaned. If Sirena wasn’t in such a state of abject misery she would have laughed instead of getting irritated by his rather typical male reaction.

“Kenyon?”

“Yeah?” His voice had deepened, taken on a sexy rasp.

“You better not be whacking off or I’m going to hunt you down, string you up by your balls and spend hours torturing you.”

“Damn it, Sirena, would you stop trying to turn me on.”

His unexpected comment brought her up short. What kind of man got hot and bothered by a threat?

“Don’t give up your day job to become a comedian because you’re really not very funny.”

“That wasn’t a joke but whatever, I have an idea. I’ll need a couple of hours. You weren’t planning on going out, were you?”

“In my current mood… Hell no. I’d probably rip some poor slob’s throat out for daring to glance my way. But, um—”

“Okay, good. Hang tight.”

Hang tight?

Wednesday, April 1, 2015

Celebrating A Decade Of Storytelling

This year I am celebrating a decade of being a published author. Wow, an entire decade. I certainly never imagined myself writing or being published, and now doing so for a decade...Whoo-damn!

I've had my ups and downs on this journey, overcome a long period of writers block when my muse disappeared. Still not totally recovered from that absence but the stories are back, thank God. I am back in the saddle and loving every minute of writing with the Naughty Literati. This amazing group of women truly inspires me!

The experience of writing is as different for each author as their personality. I started on this incredible journey on a dare. That's right--a dare. When watching movies with family and friends, I typically had the plot figured out well before the movie was half over. I was often heard saying things like, "I could have done a better job writing this," or "I could have come up with a much better ending." Sick of hearing this, my mother laid down a challenge. "Then do it."

*screeching brakes*

I responded, "Say what?"

"Sit down and write a story."

I'm sure at the time she could see my brain racing as I tried to figure out how on earth to accomplish such a phenomenal thing. But admit defeat, turn down a challenge, no way.

I started and never completed three stories before I found my footing and over the course of about six months, I wrote and re-wrote PASSIONATE REALITIES, my first published book. Upon submission in 2004, the story was pulled from the slush pile and I received an email asking me to do some revising and resubmit. I did and the book was contracted New Years week 2005.

I can't adequately express the mind-blowing experience of receiving that acceptance email or what followed other than I walked on clouds for the majority of 2005. Nothing I’ve ever been through prepared me for writing a book and having it released to the public. Talk about putting yourself out there…OMG! When PASSIONATE REALITIES released, I felt like I was standing center stage under the spotlights, naked, with all my most private, taboo sexual thoughts exposed to the whole world. Thankfully, book releases have gotten a little easier since then.

For many years I avoided first-person writing as there were few first-person stories I enjoyed. Getting a reader lost in the story and making them forget they're reading first-person takes great skill. Yet as I grew more comfortable with getting the voices of my characters out of my head and into writing, I became more interested in first-person since it provided an opportunity to go much deeper into a character's head. One of my favorite stories I've written and am most proud of, MY GREATEST FANTASY, is written in first-person and I recently had a funny experience with the story.

I had not written first-person in several years and wanted to for my shifter story, MERRY CHRISTMAS, KITTEN, which is part of the NAUGHTY LIST boxed set. So I opened up MY GREATEST FANTASY on my Kindle and started reading. I was captured on the first page and forgot not only that I was reading a first-person story but that I was reading my own writing. Before I finished the first chapter I was blown-away and thought, now this is how I want to write!

*face-palm*

Yeah, not my brightest moment. LOL!

To celebrate my amazing decade, for your reading enjoyment, here is a link to the entire first chapter of MY GREATEST FANTASY. And here's to many more decades of stories to come, because the voices are back and they have a lot to say.

Happy Reading,
Nicole

Monday, November 3, 2014

Merry Christmas, Kitten by Nicole Austin



A naughty excerpt from Merry Christmas, Kitten by Nicole Austin. Part of the Naughty List Anthology, available for pre-order November 25 and download December 1st.

Copyright © Nicole Austin, 2014
Note: Nicole Austin’s books are intended for those readers 18 years old or older. If you are under 18 please leave now.

Chapter One

Almost there. Just a little bit more.

Every muscle in Sirena Petra’s body stretched taut and she panted to draw much-needed oxygen into her burning lungs. Perspiration glistened on her skin as she writhed against black silk sheets, desperate to crest the plateau. Her need to orgasm had surpassed the crisis point and become painful agony.

Fumbling with the buttons beneath her fingertips, she shifted the silver vibrating marvel into overdrive. The device buzzed louder and metal beads in the shaft sprung to life, rotating against her sweet spot as devilish projections tormented her pulsing clitoris.

With her other hand, Sirena palmed a heavy breast and pinched her taut nipple. Fiery jolts of sensation arced between the two pleasure centers. Her body clenched, going statue-still for several heartbeats as she teetered on the edge of the precipice…

And once again fell flat without finding satisfaction.

She reached between trembling thighs, the still-humming toy creating a wet slurping sound as she pulled it from the tight clasp of her pussy. When she dropped it onto the bed, the plastic toy gave a halfhearted, weak jiggle and shiny silver balls slowed then ceased spinning as the motor wheezed, coughed and gave one final death rattle before falling silent.

All she wanted for Christmas was an orgasm or two. She didn’t think that was asking too much.

Cursing a blue streak, Sirena grabbed her cell phone from the nightstand and texted “911” to Kenyon Fort. Less than a minute later music from her favorite indie rock band filled the room. She slid her thumb over the touch screen and shivered as Kenyon’s rich smoke-and-whiskey voice glided across her sensitized body in a velvety caress.

“What did you break this time?”

“The expensive as hell Platinum Powerhouse,” she huffed. Oh, she hadn’t paid full price. Never did. She had a great deal worked out with Kenyon. He sold her toys at cost and she designed and maintained his website at a majorly discounted rate. Theirs was the perfect partnership.

Kenyon sighed his frustration. “Well, now you’re really screwed, Kitten.”

Her heart fluttered hearing his pet name for her but her gaze narrowed on the vibrator, brow furrowing with her irritation. “How so?”

“The Platinum Powerhouse was the big guns, Sirena. The last resort. You’ve tried all the strongest vibrators available. Hell, I made that one specifically for you.”

“So that means…” Her words trailed off and she swallowed hard.

“You’re shit out of luck,” Kenyon finished for her. “There is no vibrator that can survive the abuse you dish out.”

He muttered something under his breath she didn’t try to make out, all her thoughts wrapped up in her current dilemma. Major downside to the strength inherent in being a shape-shifting lioness—the strong contractions of her pelvic muscles. She’d strangled all her vibrators to an untimely death and had yet to find a living, breathing man who could get her where she needed to go during sex.

“But Ken—” She cringed at the plaintive tone of her voice. “What the hell am I going to do?” If only her kind weren’t so rare then she’d have a chance of finding a mate.

Sirena shook her head. She didn’t really want a mate. Male cats were either loners who never stayed in one place for long or polygamists who had a pride of women they fucked. They certainly weren’t committed to any one female. Her footloose and fancy free father stood as the perfect example, constantly shuffling around between eight lionesses who shared him. Sirena wanted children but had no desire to be a sister wife or a single parent trying to raise a shifter cub in a predominantly human society without the support of his or her father. No thanks!

“Have you considered trying a real cock? Because, damn, Sirena, I’ve got to be honest here. That powerful pussy of yours has become the star of my favorite fantasies.”

“Gee, Kenyon, now why didn’t I think of that?” Sirena sighed heavily. “Every real cock I’ve tried hasn’t lasted long enough. Size and shape don’t matter—neither do skill of the user. Even the porn star with the supposed legendary stamina wasn’t able to go the distance.”

Kenyon’s breathing quickened and he groaned. If Sirena wasn’t in such a state of abject misery she would have laughed instead of getting irritated by his rather typical male reaction.

“Kenyon?”

“Yeah?” His voice had deepened, taken on a sexy rasp.

“You better not be whacking off or I’m going to hunt you down, string you up by your balls and spend hours torturing you.”

“Damn it, Sirena, would you stop trying to turn me on.”

His unexpected comment brought her up short. What kind of man got hot and bothered by a threat? “Don’t give up your day job to become a comedian because you’re really not very funny.”

“That wasn’t a joke but whatever, I have an idea. I’ll need a couple of hours. You weren’t planning on going out, were you?”

“In my current mood… Hell no. I’d probably rip some poor slob’s throat out for daring to glance my way. But, um—”

“Okay, good. Hang tight.”

Hang tight?

Learn more about Nicole's books at her website: http://nicoleaustin.net