An Excerpt from Book 3 of my NEWLY COMPLETED Tinseltown Temptress Series

from Chapter 1 of  Screwed Over ~

Relieved to have completed the requisite physical activities for her assignment, Cassie couldn’t wait to get out of the costume, shower and sleep forever. But riding down in the elevator she began to worry about all of the little things that can go wrong when an extremely wasted person is left alone. Sure, Dagmar had been fine when Cassie left her snoring away on her stomach, and sure, her unobservant bandmates should have returned from the closed down club hours ago. But she couldn’t think of a single reason (other than walking around barefoot, with crazy hair, no mask on and half a Catwoman costume mostly laced up around her oversexed body) not to put her mind at ease and check on her new friend. Cassie watched the doors open and close again on her floor then she rode back up. As she got closer to the girls’ suite, she could hear the faint, muffled sound of a man’s voice raised in anger. She pressed her ear to the door but couldn’t make out any words. There was definitely a man in there shouting. Stupidly scared that somehow Dagmar had let some asshole breach the security of her room, Cassie pounded on the door like the police.

The man’s voice approached the door and Cassie heard, “. . . that will have to satisfy me until morning then.”

The door swung open three inches, bouncing a bit on the chain, to reveal an angry, red faced MH. Cassie’s jaw dropped. He sputtered for a minute, his mouth having a hard time keeping up with his brain, before saying, “YOU?!?” and slamming the door shut.

Cassie was so shocked to see him she didn’t even react. Running for the stairs might have been prudent. Instead, she just stood there in her bare-ass-feet, mouth hanging open, awaiting whatever was about to befall her. She heard the chain clear the latch. MH whipped the door back open and stood rooted in place, a meter away from Cassie.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, words careful but very slightly slower than normal, anger held tight behind his beautiful, blue-green eyes. He hadn’t shaved in days and Cassie yearned to reach out and stroke the rough stubble that covered much of his face and neck.

“I’m here to check on Dagmar. Is she okay?”

Shaking his head back and forth for a couple of breaths he finally sighed, his shoulders sinking. He leaned back into the room and grabbed a handy trash can, wedging it in the door before joining Cassie in the hall.

“Let me understand. You send me a cryptic fucking text message about my sister needing me, and I rush up here as fast as I fucking can. Silly me, I assumed she’d be awake and you’d still be here to explain what the fuck you were doing spending time with my fucking sister in the first fucking place.”

He waited for her to say something. She didn’t.

He continued, “Only Dagmar is passed out here alone. Has no idea who you are really. She will only say that Selina saved her, is her knight in shining leather. Which I didn’t understand fully until now.”

He looked Cassie up and down, open lust coupled with disgust. Her blood sped up in her veins, the sound of it rushing behind her ears.

“She won’t even consider that you might have been involved, that this was all an elaborate setup to make you look like a hero.”

Cassie felt that one like a knife to her sternum. “Did you tell her that?”

“I suggested it.”

“Why?”

“Maybe you did set all this up just to get to me.” He leaned away from her to see her face better in the sparsely lit hallway. “Did you seriously think I would be stupid enough to fuck you again?”

The brighter light glaring into his face revealed to Cassie just how drunk he was and she cursed her rotten luck at finding him like this.

“Did you think that saving my sister from some unidentified thugs would make me fall harder for you?”

He took a step closer. The veins on his neck bulged out as he clenched his jaw.

Cassie did not want to hear another thing. “Stop.”

“Why?” He mimicked her voice, the way she had sounded asking him the same thing only moments before. “You dressed up like my favorite, Catwoman,” his fingers rose to flick at the mask that she’d rolled up and tied down to her shoulder. “You thought since I’m already hooked you could jerk the line and I would fall totally under your spell. Treacherous snake.”

He took another step closer, and this time Cassie retreated a half step back.

“Look, I didn’t even know you were here, let alone that you like Catwoman. Do you think I have access to your diary or something?”

“Bullshit.”

“You aren’t on a panel and none of your friends on social media have posted anything about this con. Get over yourself.”

“Except Dagmar.”

“What?”

“Dagmar must have posted all sorts of things about coming here. Why are you messing with my family?”

“M, I swear. I did not know either of you were going to be anywhere near this con. I met her by accident. I only got her away from those guys because I was terrified of what I saw going down.”

The muscles in his face relaxed a little. He leaned back out of the light and slouched against the wall.

Cassie went on to drive the point home while he was still interested in listening. “I didn’t know you were here.”

MH swallowed while readjusting his thinking to the idea. The implications of what that meant about Cassie’s true agenda here at the con, namely giving some other celebrity a magic carpet ride, occurred to him seconds later. His eyes narrowed and his hands curled into fists.

“Who are you stalking this time? Or is it just open season?”

“Since Dagmar was able to fill you in on the evening’s activities, I’ll assume she’s well.” Cassie spun on her heel and took two steps toward the elevator.

“Hold on,” he said, using only one giant stride to reach her. He laid both his hands on the wall to either side of her head and leaned down in her face. “Or is your mission a fait d’acompli?”

Cassie couldn’t say a word and cursed her body for responding to his nearness with a rush of lust rather than the detached uncaring pose she wanted to show him. Something in her face must have given her away.

“Already scratched your itch then. Who is the unlucky bastard?” MH leaned in quite close to her, and she wondered if the crazy man was restraining himself from kissing her. “Maybe I could extend him my sympathies in advance of your article. Give him a little heads up before his life implodes.”

She finally found her voice. “Sorry, no advance spoilers without a premium membership. You’ll just have to read my next column.”

“Not good enough, Cassie.”

pre-order on Amazon or Smashwords ~ COMPLETED SERIES

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Free Book Days Ahead

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Next week Tuesday & Wednesday (5/2 & 5/3) Screwing Around, book 2 in my Tinseltown Temptress series, will be free on Amazon. Book 1, Screw Up, is not currently available for such a giveaway but it is only 99 cents on Amazon (FREE on Smashwords!), a great price for feature length erotic romance. Get them both and laugh and cry along with Cassie as she prowls the Hollywood beat for TFP.mag. The last of the series, Book 3 is coming along nicely and will be out near the end of 2017. Need a new romance?

Three’s Company Too

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 an excerpt from the (6,000 word) article:

“It is him, Julie. I told you!” Leane exclaimed just loudly enough for CT to catch it.

“Shhh. Oh my God, Leane. So embarrassing.”

“Why should you be embarrassed that he’s CT?” Leane snorted. He looked up at us and smiled, giving us a little half wave of acknowledgement. “He probably loves meeting fans.”

“Just be quiet, Leane. Not at a doctor’s office, I’m sure.” Then to CT, “Sorry, not trying to intrude.”

“Oh, no intrusion.” He seemed pleased to be recognized, even scooched closer to them on his padded bench. “You’re fans then?”

“Not me,” Leane blurted out. “She is. Probably seen all your movies.” This last she said in a sing song teasing way and I tried to blush.

“Well, that’s flattering,” he said politely. “Glad you liked my performances.”

“She doesn’t like them, she loves them.” She slid her arm around my shoulders and hugged me to her. “Don’t you sweetie?”

“Stop it, Leane.” I laughed good-naturedly and played at shrugging off my feigned embarrassment. “She’s right, I am a huge fan of your work.”

“Yeah,” she cut in, “your work,” and waggled her eyebrows at him, giggling.

“Thanks. What’s been your favorite role so far?”

“I really like your new tv show.”

“Great!” He seemed almost shocked to hear it.

“But my favorite is probably Travis from Lightning Strikes. Such a deep film and the characters were amazingly real. You were wonderful.”

“That’s one of my favorites too,” he replied, voice tinged with genuine pride.

“Didn’t hurt that you were naked for the middle third of the movie,” Leane dropped, running a fingertip slowly up my arm and smiling as CT noticed and licked his lips.

“Made for a cold shoot,” he said, making light of her comment but still riding high off of my praise.

“Don’t downplay it. I thought you and Kelly Crane achieved a lot in those scenes. A lot of actors would have seen them as erotic throwaways but you both took the story’s themes and elevated them using just your bodies. Incredible really.” The more I fan gushed at him the more open his body language became so I didn’t bother to hide my true love and admiration for his chosen form of professional artistic expression, I just let it roll out over him in a rush. I picked out two smaller, but juicy roles and told him how masterful he’d been in those, all the while being lightly petted by my scorching hot, young and nubile girlfriend. During this his ass inched him completely down the bench to end directly across from us and it seemed like the next stop on its tour of the waiting room was our laps.

“Well, always nice to meet a fan. Can I sign something for you? Take a picture?”

“Oh no, I couldn’t possibly make you do that.” I waved off the star service, but Leane got a scrap of paper and a pen out of her bag. Instead of handing it to him she started scribbling on it.

“It’s no trouble, really.” He seemed to truly desire this common fan interaction, but I knew that a pic would be the kiss of death to all our plans so I kept waving it off.

At this point, a medical assistant wearing hello kitty scrubs called mine and Leane’s fake names to usher us into our appointment, early after all.

“See, no time for selfies.” I stood and held out my hand to shake. “It was lovely meeting you.”

He and Leanne both stood then. CT taking my hand but then leaning in for a half hug and to air kiss near my cheek. As a result of our close proximity the back of his hand pressed up against my left breast and I felt my nipples tighten into diamond hard nubs at the slight stimulus. Hoping he’d felt my sexual response to his nearness, I glanced into his eyes as we parted before diverting my gaze shyly to the floor and walking briskly away. Following our protocol, Leane avoided close physical contact with CT but smiled broadly at him and gave him her note. It was meant to seem like a spontaneous offer, a spur of the moment invitation, but in reality we’d agreed on the wording days before.

My girl loves your fine ass, LOVES  YOU!
and I have heard her describe how she
wants to suck you off. I’d love to
watch you FUCK her ♥ Do you want
to watch us together?
Meet us at the _______ Hotel bar.
We’re going back there after this for  lunch then a nap ♥

This approach was, of course, very tricky.

keep reading for the entire (M rated ~ 6,000 word) article as it appeared on TFP


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Sometimes a Man Needs Saving

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an excerpt from the (7,500 word) article:

“Do you have many stalkers?” I asked it lightly, half chuckling, but the answer he [JJP] gave sitting back down was quiet and serious.

“A few. That one I do not count. She’s harmless.”

“How can you tell?”

“That woman doesn’t seriously want anything from me, bringing her family in here. Psht. It’s the quiet little freaks sitting in the shadows, they’re the ones that you wake up to, standing over you holding a giant Maglite, wearing only a smile.”

“Personal experience?”

“It doesn’t get much more personal than that.” He laughed and lit another prohibited cigarette. The place was emptying out slowly and a lady in one of the nearby groups coughed and waved a hand in front of her nose. She homed in on his cigarette smoke and gave him her look of death. He flipped her off. She huffed up and practically ran out the front door ahead of most of her people. “No, that little honey isn’t stalker material. I bet she just wants her man jealous. Maybe that gets stuff going for them. Who knows?”

“She clearly wants to fuck you.”

“Doesn’t everyone?” Cue his canned sexy face, bedroom eyes and a mischievous grin.

“I wouldn’t count on those guys.” The three old guys were at the bar sipping liquor and none of them looked very happy that JJP was still sitting with me and blowing off whatever discussion they had been having when I first appeared onto their scene.

“Oh no. They definitely want to fuck me. And ten ways on Sunday.” He had held his rocks glass in front of his mouth while talking about the men and now he downed the rest of the liquor and waggled his eyebrows at me. “But not tonight, I’m playing hard to get with them. Can’t give it up too quick or they lose interest, right?”

“I couldn’t say. I’ve never played hard to get in my life.”

He stared at me hard, head tipped slightly, brain and dick obviously warring for control of his mouth.

My mouth, on the other hand, was on and running. My mind and libido gleefully pursuing the same, within-arms-reach goal. I said the next in a terrible Scarlett O’Hara impression because I have the unfortunate tendency to pick up southern accents when I’m around them. “Why don’t you use my fate provided assistance to help you get away from your unwanted suitors?” I did my own eyebrow raising and his small smile seemed hopeful.

“You think you can get me away from them real easy, huh?”

“I think they’d get the picture if we left together. Yep.”

“So if I told you I was sleeping on the bus tonight, that it’s out back and I’d just love to give you a tour, you’d say?”

“I’d say,” I raised my voice to carry over to our interested observers, “Gee, a real live tour bus!” I did my best groupie squeal (which is amazing, btw) and sat back, quivering and shaking in my seat, colt-like with feigned excitement. “How was that?” I murmured for his ears alone, smiling huge.

“Well, let’s get to it, sugar.” He stood and held his hand out to pull me back up onto my heels. “Did I mention that you look good enough to eat?”

keep reading for the entire (M rated ~ 7,500 word) article as it appeared on TFP


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Beach Bum Bombs in Bed

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an excerpt from the article:

His apartment was gorgeous and for a few minutes I couldn’t believe he took a total stranger there. Then I realized that this was a decoy home. He didn’t really live there. No photos anywhere. No personal touches. The whole place looked like an expensive hotel room. We went into the kitchen and I was shocked when he opened the fridge and there was food in it.

“I was planning a gluten free, egg white breakfast burrito. How does that sound?”

“Really healthy.”

“It is.” JW, still unapologetically topless, rubbed his hand up and down bulging abs. “Gotta keep up my figure.”

I could see around him, into the fridge, just enough to see something large and chocolate in there. “What else is in there?”

“Not much else…”

“I see chocolate.”

“That’s a surprise for later.” He shooed me away from him and pointed at a bar stool. “Sit and let me cook.”

We chatted about the weather while he made our meal. He put a little feta cheese and green olives into the eggs and it was delicious. It was tiny, though and quickly gone.

“Still hungry. What’s for dessert?”

“You’ll see.”

He cleared away the dishes and pulled me off the bar stool. JW started kissing me with his super soft, beautiful lips. Light feathery kisses, and not at all what I was expecting. I felt like fainting, my cretinous friends. He slow danced me to the other side of the kitchen island, the whole time smooching me sweetly. Mashing me against the high counter top with his forceful and amazing body his muscles took the weight off my feet for a second. It felt as if I were melting into him. He moved away from me for two seconds and managed to strip me bare. Lifting me off of my feet, he plunked my ass on the cold granite and pulled my knees both forward and wide apart. Everything was happening so fast that when he laid me back, down on the island, I figured he was planning on having me for dessert. Instead, JW stepped away leaving me nude and in exam position while he got the big glass bowl from the fridge. When he turned around I saw that it was filled with chocolate pudding.

“Do you mind?” he asked me with a bad little boy look on his face.

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New York or LA? Neither!

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an excerpt from the article:

MH finished his drink and gestured at the bartender clear across the room. The man shot forward with a tray bearing fresh glasses, an ice bucket, and a whole bottle of very nice tequila. While he replaced glasses, poured, and wiped off the table MH just watched me with an amused grin and didn’t speak a word. The man ran off with the tray, but left the bottle.

“I have to know. How do I remind you of your husband?”

“I can’t. Oh God, this is so embarrassing.”

“We are like old friends,” he said, sliding his hand into mine slowly and caressing my palm with his rounded, blunt fingertips. “There is no need for embarrassment.”

“What the hell.” I took a long drink and shrugged. “You were my celebrity-free-pass.” He looked confused so I continued. “You know. Sometimes couples joke about what celebrity they reserve as their one chance to cheat without repercussions. His was Penelope Cruz, mine was you.”

He frowned and lied badly. “I think this must be an American thing.”

“Maybe,” I said, but I was thinking that more than one little honey has probably curled up to MH and told him about a deal she has with her husband.

“So if he had met Penelope Cruz on the street, and she agreed, they could have had sex and you wouldn’t have been upset?”

“It didn’t really seem like a possibility. I agree that in light of recent events, I probably shouldn’t have joked about sleeping with other people. But it seemed harmless at the time.”

“I wonder how he’d feel knowing that you’re here with me.” His eyes slitted with mischief and he took my hand again.

Ah, and we’d come full circle. “He wouldn’t care. And even if he did, you’re not here with me. We’re just sharing a drink.” I tried to sound nervous over my tequila buzz. “You’re here with your … girlfriend, right?”

“Nope.” His eyes seemed darker, calculating. His knee was touching my leg under the table.

“Oh.” I waited a few beats, then raised my eyes to his. “Oh…”

“I bet he would care a lot.” His eyes roamed all over my body and occasionally lit on my face. “Why are you still wearing your wedding ring?”

“So that men won’t bother me while I’m traveling.”

He laughed loud and long at that one.

read more for the entire (M rated ~ 5,600 word) article as it appeared on TFP


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