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by Madeline Moore
Yikes! Is that picture scary or what? Well, Halloween is coming, dear Lust Bites readers, which means two things.
1) Time to get your freak on!
2) Time for the Lust Bites Halloween Giveaway!
This year, we are giving away another impressive batch of erotica books, penned by some of the best writers of erotica working today. That's right, penned by Lusties! First Prize is all of the following:
• Amanda's Young Men by Madeline Moore
• Enchantment by Janine Ashbless, Olivia Knight, and Leonie Martell
• Wildwood by Janine Ashbless
• Phantasmagoria by Madelynne Ellis
• Roping the Wind by Kate Pearce
• Speak Its Name by Erastes,Lee Rowan, Charlie Cochrane
• Market for Love by Jamaica Layne
• something spooky by Portia da Costa
• and the so-hot-off-the-press-it-hasn't-been-released-yet anthology, which features a number of us, Lust At First Bite.
Second and third prizes are copies of Lust At First Bite.
Now, to win this particular contest you must do a little more than write a comment to this post.
We're looking for spooky submissions of no more than 200 words. It can be anything you like, a wee self-contained short story, a snippet from a longer work, or even a snippet for a book that doesn't exist. Get the picture?
Howl you should! Isn't he handsome? Don't get any fancy ideas about him, because, as you can see, he does not have a human head.
Here are a few examples. The first two come to us courtesy of Olivia Knight. They are excerpts from her novel, The Ten Visions.
Hallow's Eve in the graveyard of the University Church of St Mary the Virgin
They sat in silence as the other members gathered on the lawn again, each with a glass in hand which one of them refilled.
'Excuse me a moment,' murmured the old man, his hand brushing her shoulder gently as he stood.
She felt a rush of her earlier arousal,chasing away the sour feeling. Watching him walk towards the circle, she thought, And why not? Older – but clearly not too old – if his eyes are anything to go by… The image of him making love to her, slowly and
tenderly, flashed through her head. It was appealing…
'Sarah!' hissed a voice. She sprang around in fright: Jo was crouched behind the bench. 'Please, you have to believe me, run! While no-one's looking – trust me, your soul depends on this, keep quiet but run!'
A winter afternoon in Duke Humphrey's Library, in the Bodleian
The rich smell of books, shuffling steps of the librarian, and hissing scratch of her pencil on paper, mingled with her thoughts. The silvery-grey pencil lead shone under the glow of the table lamp; the tiny hairs at the back of her neck teased her nape in the irregular, warm breeze.
'Sarah…'
She spun her head at the soft whisper. No-one was behind her. At
the end of the corridor, she could see the librarian quietly talking to
someone; no doubt a brief sibilance had caught her attention. She resumed
her reading and scratching.
'Sarah…'
She heard it again, hardly a breath but distinctly her name. Her
spine stiffened. The librarian and the other student had left her section;
no-one was in sight. Leaning over her books again, she couldn't move her
eyes from one word to the next. The hairs on her arm stood upright. She
waited.
'Sarah…'
Want more? Here's a snippet from Erastes:
He slid down my body, kissing my shoulder, arm, hip. He drove me wild with his lips, tongue. Teeth.
He murmured words I didn't recognise. "Subclavian, brachiocephalic, palmar, iliac, femoral."
"What's that?" I gasped. I could hardly concentrate on what he was saying because my cock was too interested in what he was doing.
"Arteries," he whispered, his tongue teasing the line of hair from my navel.
I wanted to scream with pleasure. "Are you some kind of medical student?" I gasped. I didn't care. His mouth was doing wonderful things with my balls, sucking them in and out. I couldn't have got any harder.. He could have said he was Lon Chaney at that point and I was sure I wouldn't care.
"No," he purred, "it's just an interest. A hobby." I felt his breath on the super-heated head of my cock and I nearly came from that alone.
"The sweetest of all," he said, "is the dorsal artery…and that's found…here."
Oh I screamed all right. When his teeth went in, I screamed. And screamed.
Over to you now, folks. Write us a scene, no more than 200 words, and maybe you will be treated to a bounty of sexy books, guaranteed to make your blood run....hot.
The contest starts now and will run until November 4 (the following Wednesday). So you have one week to write to win!
Winners will be announced on the following Wednesday, November 12.
Picture credits: Our werewolf comes to us courtesy of Chuff.
If you want to see more of his work, contact him at: tiger at wulistudio dot com.
The ghost and man embracing is the cover of Sleeping with Ghosts, the fourth album released by European alternative rock band Placebo in 2003.
The two male vampires are from a half-hour TV dramatic series called The Lair.
Madelynne Ellis photographed the First Prize bounty. Thank you!
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Halloween Giveaway!
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Lucy’s flesh tingled where it met the edge of the circle, the hairs on her arm rising as the skin puckered. The air seemed warmer inside, warmed by the sun rather than seared by frosty twilight. She gathered her resolve and sat up. “Who’s there?” she said, her voice hubristic with authority – this was her father’s land, after all.
“‘Who’s there?’ she asks,” echoed a throaty voice, filled with the phlegm and bile of a bitter old man. “She lies in the circle ripe for the taking and asks: ‘who’s there?’”
Lucy felt calloused fingers running from wrist to shoulder, then over her breast to the hollow of her throat. Her nipples hardened.
“A bargain first,” she said, feeling the heat of desire in her voice. “Return my sister and you can take my virtue.” She gasped as an unseen hand pressed down on her groin.
“No need for bargains,” said the voice. “You’ve stepped willingly into our domain. Your virtue, what little you have left, is forfeit.”
Lucy reached across, trailing her fingers across an invisible arm, leg… She grabbed and was awarded with a shriek. “Or,” she said, “we could bargain with yours.”
She threw back her head, mouth open. Swallowed the lightning as it struck down from the somber vaulted heavens to the filthy macabre earth below; the carrion plain. Violent it tore down her throat. Shards of molten light that filled her core; a dense burning ruby of wild energy, but her thirst was not for organic electricity. Still, it served. Trickled through her veins and spilled out across pale, perfect skin. She glowed. It ignited her blood-amber hair and it bled like the field of the dead around her, the quilt of fetid corpses. And for this she had come.
Moving among the fallen, grey robed, she found only empty shells; vessels torn apart by gory war. She wandered among them, untouched. Eyes searching; twin blades of a colder steel. She did not give up hope and was rewarded. He lay curled against a twist of decay and when she laid a hand on his chest, confusion shot life through his eyes.
“How?” He asked.
She smiled, no mercy painted on cupid lips. Knelt beside him and saw past the decay to the strong and handsome face. “Silly little dead thing, come with me and live again” was her offer.
Ooooh-aaaahr...
Madeline, that's probably the scariest photo I have EVER seen. Now deeply disturbed by my own tongue. Urgh!
Leatherdykeuk & udo, kudos for kicking things off... I'll prob be back with a scary snippet of my own (yeah, I know I can't win, but I can hope) when my brain has defrosted.
Thanks Olivia. I thought that grotesque thing might freak someone (besides me) out.
leatherdykeuk and udo, good stuff.
I'm already worried about the judging process...
Keep them coming, people!
Again that high, continuous, bloodcurdling sound. Seeing the ice bright auras in her mind, outlines of light with nothing inside but cold eyes and colder teeth, Goran shivered. She pressed close to Luke, praying the barn’s false ceiling beneath them would hold.
“They won’t find us”, Luke whispered. His breath caressed her skin.
Goran felt her heart speed up. Damn her nature; fear made her want to melt into the nearest sexy body. Even now, her fingers reached for him, rubbing at him, unbuttoning his jeans … no, wait, she had to think.
“They’ll see my heat, Luke. They’ll know.”
“What will it take for you to stop worrying?” he asked, crouched in front of her, taking her hand and guiding it back to where he jutted close to her face, hard … her mind was fuzzy now as he pushed into her mouth, his fingers sliding between her thighs. Goran leaned into the motion of him, giving in.
That sound again, right outside. She let him slip from her lips, just as she caught a bluish glimpse of Luke’s chest – then, horrified, watched his skin fade to pitch black in the cold shimmer building around his body.
Here's my entry... it does get much better and gory :)
Piled in Eva’s 1999 Pontiac Trans Am, Stephanie, Jason, and Eva’s boyfriend Jake were on their way to the cemetery that has for years been rumored to hold some of the most gruesome murderers, thieves, and serial killers from all over. Tonight was All Hallow’s Eve, and the foursome were prepared to communicate with someone from beyond the grave. Well, they thought they were prepared.
The Trans Am tires crunched on the gravel road winding up toward the home of the dead. Perfectly secluded, abandoned for who knows how long, Jake and Eva enter the creaky gates first. Upon entering, Eva got a strong feeling of dread but decides to ignore it because, don’t all cemetaries give people the creeps?
Stephanie and Jason gathered all of the supplies from the trunk, candles, incense, a blanket and a few alcholoic provisions; they thought the liquor would help them accept the spirits more easily if they were relaxed. And what better way to open themselves up to the spirit world than to imbibe in a little spirits of their own.
Right away, Jason found the perfect place to start the séance. Beneath the withered old Oak tree was a tombstone that had been split into two equal but jagged pieces. It simply read, “William B. Baxter 1902-1930 One Day I Will Come Back.”
>rubbing spooky Halloween witch's claws together with glee< Good, very good...>cackle cackle<
crystal, might I suggest another entry (and yes, multiple entries are allowed) a bit further on into the action? I need scaaaaaaary, I need seeeeeeexy....
George said, 'I see that the rumors about you dying were false, Sir Silas.' He turned to ogle my companion, who looked absolutely stunning in black.
I replied, 'Hi George! I'd like you to meet my widow.'
Exclude me from the contest, Madeline, please.
Felix
OK, for a chance at the incredible booty being offered, I'm totally willing to humiliate myself and post a horribly written story. Forgive please, I'm not a writer.
“Oh look Mary, some unsuspecting victims have arrived.’’
Licking her lips, “oooh, and the male is such a delicious looking specimen; I’m getting wet already.”
“It’s almost midnight, All Hallows Eve Mary, are you ready?”
“Oh, you know I’m ready.”
“I love you.” “I love you too.”
“Boo!”
“Jack! Stop it,” Lena screamed, grabbing Jack’s arm. “This old graveyard is so creepy. C’mon, let’s get out of here; I’m getting scared.”
“Oh, c’mon baby, it’s almost midnight, I want to see if the legend is true.”
A church bell rang and a thick, white mist filled the graveyard. “Let’s get out of here.” Before they could move though, both Jack and Lena’s bodies jerked. “What the hell? Did you feel that Lena?”
“God Jack, I feel so weird and incredibly horny” Lena ground her pelvis into his crotch, her hands shaking as she tore at his pants.
“I feel weird too; I need you right now!” A bit confused, he suddenly threw her down on the ground and jumped on top of her. He kissed her hard as he pushed her skirt up and ripped her panties off in one go.
“Hurry!” Lena groaned as she pulled his cock out, stroking it; she was on fire.
“Ahhhh… that’s it Mary; I’ve missed you so.”
I’ve tried to post this approx 4 times now! evOl IE not displaying page!!!!! *tries AIM Login*
My offering is slightly over 200. I even fail at that, lol.
“Through the graveyard?” Alex whispered nervously.
“It’s a shortcut,” Raith smirked to himself, opening the heavy wrought iron gate in front of his anxious little friend. He decided that playing to Alex’s vodka-infused mind might just get more than his legs moving. “Come on,” he urged sliding an arm around Alex’s shivering shoulders, “you’ve drank enough to warm more than your cockles ... no vampire in his right mind is going to tamper with those veins ... he certainly wouldn’t appreciate the baby elephant tramping through his head in the morning. Remember what they say? Just keep to the path and you’ll be okay.”
“Oh, don’t tease, Raith!” Alex warned, doing his best to clutch at Raith’s arm with shaking hands. “If there’s anything ... anyone here waiting to pounce we’re already sticking out like sore thumbs in these bloody costumes. Why the hell did I let you talk me into wearing this stupid frilly dress anyway? I hardly have the tits for it!” Alex pouted, still clutching at the sleeve of Raith’s frock coat.
Alex didn’t have time to think before Raith had pushed him up against the side wall of the church; he didn’t have time to cry out before Raith’s lips descended upon his own, igniting the thought that maybe not all vampires were of the undead variety.
Ok here is my second try :)
Cassandra woke with a start, she was pulled from the dream much too quickly. The tingling between her legs was now a steady throbbing in anticipation of what might have been. Her dream lover, the man she could let loose of her inhibitions with, the man with emerald green eyes and a wickedly sinful smile was now lost in the dream world once again for another night. Touching the moisture that had built up between her thighs, Cassandra moaned and conjured his image in her mind as she gently stroked her sensitive nub seeking release.
His hair was the color of raven’s wings, slightly wavy and just touching the collar of the open black silk shirt he wore. His body was ripped with the abs of a God, tanned just slightly, and had a dark black trail of curly hair leading down to the real treasure below.
Occasionally he would glace up at Cassandra’s face as he pleasured her with his tongue, the glint in those emerald eyes and the sexy smile were enough alone to make Cassandra arch into him, begging him to taste her, tease her, and drink in her essence.
“Trick or treat?” He felt foolish, naïve to be at the beck and call so easily of another. A brief message on his phone had been enough to yank the barbed wire chain wrapped round his heart; but the greater wound was in knowing that the bond went only one way. There was no reciprocation, not love, not passion, not tenderness.
The door had been open as he arrived, but that was not unexpected. He’d watched for any sign of curious eyes as the car cooled with metallic hard-edged sighs before leaving the warm confines, stepping naked into the cold and making swiftly for the darkened house.
“Trick or treat?” He said again, unable to pierce the darkness. Had it had all been a cruel game, or worse had he been forgotten when a more appealing offer arose? Light came suddenly and his hands first flew to his eyes, before he felt his nudity – anticipation, still hard, held at bay the shriveling cold – both hands reversed their course.
Did a sigh, potent, brush the air?
“Take his life for mine?” Fear in a voice, submissive and small.
“He will serve.” Sex and darkness, silk and thorns; the bargain was struck.
Not sure why it didn't post with my other story, but here is the last paragraph. Sorry about that.
Clutching the sheets in her hands, Cassandra writhes on the bed, her orgasm crashing through her. Just as the waves of release begin to pass, excruciating pain brings her attention to her upper right thigh. Looking down at what used to be the sexy green eyed man was now something more dark and sinister. Trying to scoot away from this beast with fiery red eyes, long blood stained fangs, and covered in scales, she screams. Cassandra’s scream is cut short by the monster, he pounces on top of her as she kicks, trying to fight him away before he sinks his fang filled maw into her throat shredding any hope of seeing the light of another day.
Yeah! 'fang filled maw' - way to go, Crystal!
'Did a sigh, potent, brush the air?'- yes! Udo! Give me the shivers!
There's still time to post a second entry, for those of you who have a mind to. And newcomers are still welcome to try their hand at scary/sexy. It's fun! It's freaky! And, in terms of our Halloween Giveaway, it's LUCRATIVE.
Madeline, lol I really did try hard, I'm not a writer and it took me forever to come up with something lol! :) I don't know how writers come up with over 200pgs!
Multiple entries are allowed? I can’t resist …
Struggling head-on against the wind, keeping close together, they made their way to the back court, where the observatory tower stood. After Andy ushered Jonah inside, he closed the door behind them. They stood listening to the wind howl through the tower as it creaked so hard it seemed to sway.
Jonah’s fingers touched Andy’s face. ‘No light switch?’ Jonah asked. ‘It’s still you, right?’
Andy chuckled. ‘It’s broken. C’mon, scaredy-cat.’ Their kiss was a long, dark tunnel, colours trailing on either side.
Jonah felt Andy’s fingers where his growing erection strained against his jeans. The buttons came undone, a hand reached inside, drew out Jonah’s cock, rubbed slowly.
Jonah gasped, nearly losing his balance. ‘Hold on to me’, Andy said, his breath fast. 'I am,' Jonah whispered, one hand twined in Andy’s hair, the other pushed down the back of his jeans.
‘You’re fine, Jone,’ Andy murmured hot against his throat, his hand speeding up.
‘I’m sorry,’ Jonah breathed, ‘I have to see your face.’
Steadying Jonah before letting go, Andy opened a door, revealing a dimly lit staircase winding down.
‘What is this?’ Jonah asked.
‘Don’t worry’, Andy said. ‘It’s just where the secret laboratories used to be.’
I'll join in, for the fun:
I always imagined it would be nice to make love listening to Handel and besides, the pianoforte masks the unavoidable noises of my profession. I’d like to avoid the gallows for as long as I can. I’m only nineteen years old.
The door is locked, the window shut tight against the cold. A cheap inn, a sultry glance from a stranger, and I was bought and sold. It’s seldom I enjoy my means of living, but tonight, business is pleasure.
He’s a little rough, but I like that, hairy men, calloused hands, sharp on my hips. I’m on my belly, where he put me, and I care not that the sheets are torn and stained. He’s huge, and I can feel, oh, I can feel-
Oil, warm, on me, in me, easing the way. There’s long licks and kisses behind my ear like he’s trying to taste me. He calls me a sweet boy. I’ve heard that before.
I believe him, though, when the moon spills light on the dirty floor, when the sheets are stained crimson from my flesh, torn by the jaws of the wolf. I cannot scream, but even if I could, Handel would mask the sound.
Hi Madeline. 'Sexy and scary' - what a great combination! Here goes:
She stands alone in the forest. Back in the village, her people chant by the campfire to ward away evil. But not her –
She waits.
A shadowy rider materialises through the trees. Dismounting, he strides towards her, his boots crunching over fallen leaves. He traces his finger down her cheek. His touch is like ice; she shivers and grows wet.
‘You came…’ he whispers.
She nods, suddenly aware of his woody scent. His fingers pry open her bodice. Squeezing her breasts, he cages her against a tree with his muscular body. As his mouth plunders hers, her desire erupts deep inside.
‘So, will you join me?’ he murmurs.
She gazes into his passionate, dark eyes. She thinks of her betrothed by the campfire: his eyes dead as night, his heart filled only with greed.
She holds out her hand.
The rider takes it. Lifting her onto his horse, he climbs up behind. Pulling her close, he tugs on the reins.
The air cools. Her eyes widen as a strange mist appears before them. She feels the rider’s grip tighten as the horse makes a leap.
Her cries are lost in the wind as the mist opens up…
…and swallows them.
Good, all very good! We have a real competition going now, and only today and tomorrow, (Tuesday and Wednesday) before the contest closes and the judging begins!
Anonymous, if you win a prize we will need to contact you - hmmmmm - I think we might need more than 'anonymous' because if we announce 'anonymous' as a winner, well, anyone could claim the prize...so please give us a name to go with your piece.
Lay it on me people! Scare me senseless - or fuck me senseless - or both!
Last entry for Madeline:
The hand it drew across warm flesh was pale as chalk, violet-blue veined and far colder than the pink skinned youth who shuddered beneath the fatal caress. Past a fall of jet dark hair, ice blue eyes drank in his pale gold curls, the orgasms of sound that exploded from full rouged lips. There was terror and wild arousal in the absinth green of his gaze; wide enough to swallow the creature that evoked such powerful reactions from his body, writhing about in pleasure reaching toward pain.
There were no more cries to modern gods, no more pleadings for more, for an end to it. The mortal beneath the white and black figure had no ability left for shaping anything but the ragged moans and swallowed sobs and deep, wordless sounds. It drank at the energy that still leapt from the mortal man, licked a cold violet tongue down the defined chest, following a trail of sparse brazen hair to the only hardness left to its victim.
Like a serpent, the dark tongue curled round the hot, wet shaft and solicited more before the dark maw closed over the abused organ, drank the trickle that come forth and demanded more.
The contest is now closed. Winners will be announced on Wed. Nov. 12. Thanks to all! I'm properly scared of the dark, again. What was that?
Did you hear that? Is someone there? EEEEEEEeeeeEEEEEKKKK!
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