Erotica Harem

Title of Book: Under The Tropical Moon

Chapter #: Prologue

Author: Patricia Oshier-Bruining


My comments are meant in the spirit of helping us all become better as artists; never meant to discourage or demean anyone. Use what you like and toss the rest!) !!

Plot:

Style & Voice Great to excellent! I love your voice, Pat, which comes across as poetic and flowing, especially when describing the dream sequences.

Referencing All appears fine to me, but I did get a little confused a couple times moving from, the email/computer versus the dream.

Scene/Setting: All seems fine at this point – since a prologue.

Characters: Amy, Charli and a mysterious hunky man; don’t have a grasp of what each girl looks like, but not necessary at this point – great imagery of the mysterious hunky (vamp) man!

Grammar: Very good; a couple suggestions.

Just My Personal Opinion: I really enjoyed the Prologue, which sets up a connection between Amy and Charli – and, the mystery-man, who appears to be a vamp. But, is the vamp just in their dreams – or is he real? We’ll have to read more to find out! Good hook….


Prologue

From behind, a shadow fell around her, growing larger, spreading over the sand. Arms, cool and strong, slid around her waist, fingers linking across her stomach. Delicious tingles raised goose bumps on her skin as dark thrills spiraled deep inside. Who? She tried to turn, to see who caused her stomach to flutter on a wave of sensual awareness. His arms tightened, pulling her back against solid muscle.

Adrenaline bubbled in her blood. His bare chest rubbed her back every time he drew breath (with each breath) . That skin-tingling friction blew any thought of fear out of her mind.

Do not fear me. Both command and plea, those four words whispered in her mind, a slow caress scorching her senses. Nerves sizzled and popped under her skin. His arms squeezed harder as he gathered her closer, nuzzling her neck. Tension crackled the air around them. Teeth grazed her skin, a light scrape of exquisite torture. Shivers rippled through her and her thighs clenched, liquid heat dampening the curls between her legs.

“Who are you?” she whispered, wanting (aching?) to turn and look at the man who ignited this fiery passion.

One who needs you. That(The declaration echoed in her mind—persuasive, seductive. His voice flowed over her senses like warm honey. She tilted her head, arching her neck to offer easier access. Teeth grazed her skin once more as firm lips settled over the throbbing vein.

Oh please, she begged, (comma) though she didn’t know for what (why) .

In time, he murmured in her mind, casting a spell of such deep sensuality her pussy clenched. Hot and moist, his tongue slid over her neck in a streak of fire.

Her knees went weak and she curled her fingers over his arm, leaning harder on him. He supported her easily, both arms wrapped around her, fingers gliding over the dip of her waist. Shivers tore through her, melting any lingering resistance.

Oh, god, I want… “Let me see you,” she moaned and tried again to turn.

In time, he whispered, sliding into her mind, merging with her.

Teeth grazed, tongue stroked, and fangs penetrated as his mouth clamped over the pulse beating under her skin. Pain shot through her, a blinding flash, and faded into an erotic wave of longing.

Oh, Jesus. She groaned as her head lolled on his shoulder. He suckled, drawing blood from her veins, life from her spirit. I should be horrified, she thought on a languid note. But… Pleasure crashed over her, blinding ecstasy exploding deep inside as just the simple tug of his mouth on her neck shot her into orgasm. (This is hot! I love this paragraph).

Vision blurring, she gasped for breath, clutching the hard muscular arm across her stomach. Her heart stuttered and the world darkened around her.



Amy Fletcher stilled her fingers on the keyboard for a long moment, heart racing under the impact of the sensual yet horrifying dream she’d just put in the body of an email. Closing her eyes, she transported back into that vivid scene, pulse pounding as blood roared in her ears.

She opened her eyes and sucked in a deep breath, flexing her fingers before typing. It was so real, so clear—like it actually happened! Great scene for an erotic horror story. What do you think? She clicked the icon to send the email to Charli and minimized the web browser to the icon tray at the bottom of the screen.

The cursor blinked at the end of the last sentence on the page of text displayed. That quick, an overactive imagination plunged her back into fantasy. It continued, racing through her mind as her fingers clacked on the keyboard, struggling to keep up with her thoughts.

The moon lit the sand in a cool blue light. Ocean waves moved in and out in a slow rhythm, like the heart beat (one word) of the earth. Palm fronds swished a steady cadence in the breeze. The tangy sent (scent) of seawater stung her nose. She wandered along the beach to a secluded cove where a bonfire burned.

No one appeared to be around. Who lit this thing (blaze?)? She looked around and continued toward the fire.

Please, join me… A deep masculine voice swirled through her head.

Reaching the huge orange flames, she found no one. She glanced around and a chill ran down her spine. Her heart thudded in her chest.

He stepped from the shadows and walked toward her. I’ve been waiting for you. He was tall and muscular with ebon hair that brushed across his shoulders in gentle waves. He wore nothing but (only) black silk lounge pants.

“For me?” She asked aloud, confused. Her eyes darted from him to the empty beach. “Where is everyone?”

He materialized a few feet from her and she jumped. “There is no one else here , only us.” His voice sang with a seductive tone and his eyes flashed emerald fire. “Please, sit. Have a drink with me.”

Some quality in his voice sent desire roiling through her veins. A familiar tingle tightened her belly. “Please. Come. Sit.”

He took her hand and led her to a blanket, where a bottle of wine or champagne waited in a bucket of ice with two glasses.

She frowned. That wasn’t there before. “I’m not sure I should be here. I don’t even know you.”

With lightening quickness, he tugged her against him. “Shh. You will.” He whispered in her ear, his breath sending electric sparks along every nerve. His lips found her earlobe and sucked it into his mouth.

She gasped and moaned at the exquisite pleasure.

His tongue roamed down her jaw and throat to the thrumming pulse. “You smell so sweet. I bet your blood tastes like nectar…” His whisper took her into a trance, a flash of desire shooting through her.

She turned her head, allowing him better access to her throat. His teeth grazed along the vein before fangs sank deep. The pain made her cry out and yet the pleasure made her cum…



Charli shot upward in, panting and clutching the sheets. Sweat broke out all over her body. Rubbing her eyes, she recalled the dream. Damn, that’s the last time I eat chili before bed.

She laid back and stared at the ceiling, dark in early dawn. She wanted to go back to sleep, but the dream nagged at her. I’ve got to email Amy with (about?) this.

Heading for the kitchen, she turned her computer on and made her way to heat some water for her morning cappuccino. She returned to the living room with a steaming cup and sat at her computer. (Pat-lots of pronouns in a short paragraph tongue-tie a reader like me)

Opening her email program, she began typing the dream before she forgot the whole thing. She also opened her instant messenger in case Amy might be online.




Jon Michaelsen
http://www.jonmichaelsen.net
http://www.facebook.com/jonmichaelsen
michaelsen@gmail.com


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Cover designed by Dawne Dominique

Still In print!!!!
"Men" Anthology


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"Voyeur" & "Men" cover-art by Anastasia Rabiyah
"Voyeur" editor: Dawne Dominique

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