Grade A Asshole

Grade_A_Banner_FinalHere’s an unedited sneak peek just for you!

“You think you’re so fucking special, don’t you Ms. Wilde?” His breath is on my ear and his lips are hovering dangerously close. My chin is forced upward as he grabs it. The sheer anger in his eyes should frighten me, but it doesn’t. This man has the power to break me, but something inside tells me he won’t. Something tells me Parker Grant isn’t the complete asshole he appears to be. Then again I’ve been wrong about a lot of things lately.

“Maybe I am special,” I counter.

Doesn’t every woman like to think so?

“You’re not.”

The words come out in an hushed growl. In a heartbeat, Parker is leaning down to nip at my neck. His thick tongue slides across my skin as he takes a moment to taste me.

“Maybe you’re intimated by an intelligent woman.”

I drag my lip between my teeth to suppress the moan building inside me. There’s no way I’m letting him know he has an affect on me. Fuck that.

“I’ve met plenty of women like you.”

He glances down my body and then back to me face.

My cheeks burn in anger. “You’ve never met anyone like me, Asshole.”

“I bet you think your pussy’s special too.”

He’s taunting me. This is just another test he’s hoping I fail.

“That, you’ll never find out.”

“But you want me to, don’t you brat? You want my tongue licking your pussy like dessert.”

For a brief moment, I swear I can almost see a smile on his face. But this asshole never smiles so it has to be my imagination.

“I don’t fuck old men.”

“No, you just let them fuck you,” he says, sliding his hand up my skirt.

His touch isn’t gentle.

Part of me doesn’t want it to be. A large part of me. My breath hitches as Parker pushes me against the door to my apartment. God, I hope Vickie isn’t here. For once, it would be nice if my roommate decided to spend the night out instead of studying for her Nursing classes. Parker groans as his erection presses into my thigh. I can feel every inch of it throbbing against me. And there’s a lot of inches.

“I’m sure you’re used to little boys who couldn’t fuck you correctly if there life depended on it.”

I laugh at his arrogance.

He’s right. It doesn’t matter how much I want him to be wrong. I step back from his grasp and roll my eyes in exaggeration.

“Does that mean you’re you ready to show me how it’s done? Are you ready to teach me a new lesson, professor?”

The words drop with sarcasm as I taunt him. The only lesson I’ll be learning tonight is how to get men like Parker Grant out of my system. Several seconds of silence pass between us as our eyes lock on one another. I begin to turn to open my apartment door, but instead find myself being pressed against it, stomach first.

“Lesson one. Don’t talk.”

His hands are pulling down my skirt and unbuckling his belt before I have a chance to reply. In two swift movements, he parts my bare legs and slides his erect cock inside of me. The sensation is so intense I practically scream as he angles himself deeper inside me. Parker doesn’t wait for my body to grow accustom to him. He presses on, only thrusting harder at the sound of my gasps. His hand wraps around my throat, forcing me to turn and kiss him.

Like us, our heated kiss is messy. Imperfect and yet undeniably incredible.

“I guess I’m not too old to fuck you senseless,” he groans.

The Filthy Fairy Tales

Hello my lovelies,

It’s been a while since I’ve posted on here, but I’m glad to be back at it again. I have some exciting news! My three books Filthy Beast, Filthy Prince and Filthy Kiss now have new covers. And they’re gorgeous. Seriously, just look at them. *Lick*

BeFunky Collage

I know many of you have been anxiously awaiting Filthy Prince, so I’m happy to tell you that I’m working on releasing it next month (May)! Filthy Kiss will soon follow in July.

Before you ask me, yes, I do have plans to release several other books this year (including the final volume of Drawn to You). I won’t be announcing any dates for those until next month. So definitely keep an eye on my social media pages or of course on here.

That’s it for now.

Xx

Filthy Beast Prologue

PROLOGUE
DECLAN

The blonde at my feet looks up at me through false lashes as she licks her lips like she’s ready to swallow me whole. Luckily for her, I have just the thing to satisfy her appetite.

I groan in pleasure as she slides my cock into her mouth with the eagerness of a porn star. It isn’t unusual for a fan to track me down after a signing, but it is unique to find one waiting half-naked for me in my hotel room. Not that I’m complaining. Not at all. My agent, Marcy, isn’t happy about the number of women I sleep with, but I think it’s mostly because it creates more paperwork for her. More nameless women to track down, more non-disclosures to get signed, and even more messes to clean up. If I didn’t pay her as well as I do, I’m pretty sure she would drop me as a client.

After several delicious minutes in the blonde’s hot, wet mouth, she pushes me back against the king-size bed and crawls on top of me. It doesn’t take long for her to slip off the rest of her clothing to straddle me. A satisfied smile sits plastered to her face as she reaches down and palms my cock. I smirk at the way her eyes grow wide at my girth. It’s all real sweetheart.

The best part about fans is their eagerness to please. I’m never short on women in my bed. And they cream themselves just at thought of meeting Declan Hart, author of the world’s filthiest erotica. Yup, you guessed it baby, that’s me. I take pleasure in feeding into their fantasies. The man they see is just a facade. A carefully constructed persona with an air of mystery.

“I’ve been fantasizing about this for months.”

The blonde pulls a condom from the pocket of her discarded jeans, tearing the package with her teeth before slipping it on me. She moans, lost in pleasure as she takes every inch of me inside her.

“Ride me, baby,” I say with a cocky smile.

Her pussy clenches tight around me as she rocks back and forth, her plastic tits swaying in my face. I smother a flicker of annoyance as her hands tangle themselves in my black mane. I’ve never been fond of being touched, as ironic as that sounds. But that doesn’t stop me from getting lost in the feeling of my high. It isn’t long before she’s screaming my name. A rush of endorphins hit me at the sound of it. It’s the same rush I get from a great run, from a ride on my motorcycle, or from jumping out of an airplane at 30,000 feet. I crave that high, chase it like a junkie.

The blonde’s nails claw my chest as I jut my hips up to meet her. My grunting only seems to push her over the edge as her ass bounces on top of me.

“Are you going to come for me? I ask, pulling her hair. “You filthy little slut.”

“Fuck…oh, God,” she moans.

She convulses around me, and a second later I feel hot cum pumping into my rubber. A sense of regret fills me as I detach myself from the woman in my bed. After several awkward seconds of the blonde trying to cuddle me, I roll her off me and walk over to the bathroom.

“Where are you going?”

The voice purrs, beckoning me to come back. I don’t answer her, hoping that she’ll get the hint that it’s time to leave. We’re just finished and I’m already bored with her. I flush the condom and wipe off with a hot towel, trying to rid myself of the smell of her. After taking several long, appreciative glances in the mirror, I return to the bedroom. To my surprise, I find the blonde spread out across my bed, still naked.

I frown. She’s still here? Her eyes widen with surprise at the blatant irritation on my face.

“How about another round?”

“You need to go, sweetheart.”

“What?” she asks, her overly made-up face scrunched in confusion.

“You don’t want me to spend the night?”

I smirk. “I enjoyed you sucking me off, and I definitely enjoyed the ride, but that’s where it ends. I don’t get involved with fans.”

Her cheeks flame with anger as I turn back to my hotel closet to change. It isn’t until I’m halfway there that I hear something whizzing through the air at me. I duck out of the way just in time to avoid a bottle of Dom Pérignon whirling toward me. I was saving that to celebrate my latest release. The bottle crashes against the wall, sending shards of glass flying across the room as the bubbly liquid poor down the wall. Damn it. Marcy will be on my ass if there are any damages to the hotel room.

“You’re a fucking asshole,” she seethes. “No wonder your wife left you.”

I roll my eyes, despite the ache I feel in my chest. All of the women I sleep with have this same reaction, but thankfully the number of bottles flying at my head is low. Their expectations are just so far removed from the reality of what I’m willing to provide. The only relationships that last are the ones in books. I may spend almost every waking moment writing about love and romance, but the truth is that I don’t believe in either.

“Do you want an autograph before you go?” I ask.

“Fuck you and your tiny dick,” she spits back at me.

“We both know that ‘tiny’ isn’t the right word to describe it. Do you need a reminder before you go?” I challenge.

She scoffs as she hurriedly dresses. She pushes past me and grabs her clothes and heels off the floor before quickly dressing.

“I hope your dick falls off,” she says.

“Now, that isn’t very nice, sweetheart.”

She turns to face me, her face as hard as stone. “You’ll get what’s coming to you, asshole. You think the world revolves around you, that all you have to do is flash those baby blues and women will fall for your charms. But one day you won’t have your good looks to rely on. Karma catches up with everyone, even the great Declan Hart.”

“Careful, sweetheart, frigid bitch doesn’t look so good on you.”

She makes no answer as she storms out, leaving me with a full mini-bar and a sour mood.

***

Two hours and three obnoxiously tiny bottles of whiskey later, I’m still stewing. She has no idea what she’s talking about. No idea who I really am, underneath all the money, the fame, the sex appeal. Is it my fault that I was blessed with a strong, square jaw, thick, wavy brown hair, and blue eyes that more than one woman has said she wanted to get lost in? I worked hard for all that I have. I do all I can to maintain my body well. I eat right, I exercise, I don’t smoke. I don’t make excuses.

But I also know women don’t fall at my feet simply because I look good. No, most of them want the trappings of fame. They want the money, the notoriety, the status. They want the cars and the clothes and the jewelry, all the material excess I can provide. They want the glamor of being with a famous author. I could look like a monster, and I’d still be drowning in pussy. Because at the end of the day, money trumps all. Money trumps love.

Love.

The word turns to ash in my mouth. All women want is a cookie cutter relationship. They don’t want the real you. They don’t want the problems, and they sure as hell can’t accept failure. My ex-wife is the perfect example. She left as soon as she could take half of my money. Besides how can anyone hold any semblance of any kind of relationship when my whole life’s on display like a fucking circus? The women I do seem to attract are shallow gold-diggers. Women who look at me and see dollar signs.

I grab another bottle from the mini-bar without looking, not caring what it is. It tastes like fruity shit and burns as it makes its way down my throat. I quickly down the whole thing before I can taste any more of it. Maybe I should go out tonight, try to find someone new. Someone who won’t see me as a meal ticket. Someone who doesn’t know me as Declan Hart, international bestseller and notorious playboy. Someone who’ll make me forget all the empty, meaningless sex I’ve had, all the nameless, faceless women before her.

Yeah, right. As if such a woman even exists. As if I’d even deserve her.

After the sixth bottle, my head is blurry, my thinking is fuzzy, and it seems like an excellent idea to head down to the hotel’s parking garage and find my rental car. The first few miles take me out of whatever-the-fuck city I’m in this week. The full moon limns the tall pine trees surrounding me, and I catch a glimpse of snow-capped mountains in the distance. Seattle, then? Maybe Portland? Fuck if I know. All I know is that it’s not an endless sea of brown like Vegas, where I live.

A sign tells me there’s a sharp curve in the road ahead. If I were in a better mood, the writer in me would probably have something clever to say, some insight about foreshadowing or my life’s journey. But mostly I just feel tired. Achingly, bone-deep tired.

My eyes flutter closed for a moment. Maybe if I rest my eyes for a moment I’ll feel better. Just a brief moment, that’s all I need.

By the time I realize it’s more than a moment, that maybe I’m too drunk to be behind the wheel, I’m already  careening off the road and straight into another black blur.

The last thing I remember before everything goes black is the awful smell of something burning. It seems what’s-her-name was right. Karma does catch up to everyone.

Even me. Declan Hart.

Nicholas & Rebecca After Ever After *Scene*

Once in a while, I still feel like writing about Nicholas & Rebecca. So when I do, I’ll be sure to post those snippets here. 🙂 This is just for me. Just for fun. Just for you.

Please note this is an unedited snippet.

*******

Small hands yank on my apron as I finish placing a batch of chocolate chip cookies in the oven. I look down to find Alexa waiting for me with a familiar set of blue eyes and an endearing toothy grin. A crown of red curls adorn her head, giving her an almost angelic appearance.

I say almost because earlier I found her covered in chocolate from raiding the kitchen pantry. She has a sweet tooth just like me.

“Momma, when will daddy be home?” she says, tugging on me.

My heart warms at the excitement in her voice. She has zero patience today, but I don’t blame her. Nicholas has been gone for almost a week in California. In two weeks, Knight Publishing will be opening a second office in Los Angeles. My hometown.

“Soon, baby.”

The words are barely out of my mouth when the kitchen door swings open to reveal Nicholas standing there. Speak of the devil. My center instantly heats at the sight of his tousled blond mane, rugged facial hair, and his beautiful blue eyes that seem to rake me up and down like a sex-starved man. How long has he been home?

“Daddy!”

Alexa practically squeals as she runs over to Nick and throws herself at him. He drops his hands just in time to catch Alexa before swinging her up into his arms. My chest squeezes as he brushes kisses against her curls without ever taking his eyes off of me.

“Hey sweet pea, I missed you,” he says. “Both of you.”

His eyes dance with mischief as he openly stares at my tits. There’s something predatory about that look.

“Did you bring me a present?” Alexa asks with her toothy grin.

Nicholas briefly pulls his attention back to our daughter.

“I got you something right here,” Nicholas says, tapping on his briefcase. “But first, I think we should play a game of hide and seek.”

I bite back a laugh as Nicholas flashes me a sexy grin. He puts our daughter down and then drops his brief case on the kitchen counter. Alexa claps her hands as he whispers instructions to her. She’s all too excited to play. The thing she doesn’t know is that her daddy does this to bide him time. Time that he spends reminding me exactly how much he loves me.

“Okay sweet pea, go hide and then mommy will try to find you.”

“Okay,” she says clapping her hands, before running out the kitchen door.

My heart begins to beat chaotically as Nicholas steps forward counting down as he throws off his dress jacket.

“Ready?”

The sounds of feet tapping against the marble echoes as Nicholas begins his count.

“One.”

His belt comes off in one pull.

“Two.”

His hands grab me, unzipping the back of my dress.

“Three.”

Nicholas doesn’t get past three before he’s shoving me in the kitchen pantry and pulling off my panties.

“Leave the apron,” he chuckles as I begin to untie it. “I love the housewife look.”

“Don’t get used to it,” I tease. “Grad school starts next week.”

Nicholas leans in to kiss me as he rubs circular motions at the nape of my neck.

“Think I can make you come in seven…six seconds?”

“It wouldn’t be fun if we didn’t try,” I tease.

“God, I missed you.”

The words come out in a husky groan before he buries his tongue inside my mouth. Nicholas doesn’t waste any time. In a heartbeat, he shoves his dress pants down and presses inside of me, lifting my body so my legs are wrapped around his hips. I struggle to hold onto the shelving behind me as he rocks into me.

I laugh between kisses as the whole damn shelf rattles with each delicious thrust. Nicholas grins as a macaroni elbow comes flying down and lands perfectly on my naked tits.

“Thanks babe. Dinner & dessert,” he chuckles.

#AmWriting – Protecting Her Curves (SNIPPET)

This story came to me one day and I’ve been having a lot of fun writing it. It’s not one I planned, but sometimes those are the best kind. Protecting Her Curves is a Romantic Suspense with lots of humor, and it features a M/F/M relationship. 😉

As I previously mentioned, I probably won’t be publishing for the new several months but I am definitely still writing. And I’m still very happy to share with you all what I’m working on.

Below is an unedited snippet. I hope you enjoy it.

RORY

Standing in my Care Bear underwear and Scooby Doo t-shirt is not what I had in mind when I was hoping to find myself half naked in front of my hot as sin next-door-neighbor, Erik Matthews. Not one bit. Six feet of muscle answers the door wearing nothing but a pair of low cut boxer briefs with the brand Calvin Klein stitched at the top. My gaze fixes on his V cut and the light trail of hair that leads to the tip of his underwear. Damn. Any lower, and I’m pretty sure I’m about to get a Magic Mike preview of Erik’s dick. I’d be lying if I said it was the only thing distracting about my neighbor. But probably the biggest.

“Well damn,” Erik whistles. “I was wondering what was under all those baggy shirts and jeans, but I certainly wasn’t expecting this.”

My cheeks flame as Erik quirks his eyebrow at the sight of my underwear. He traces the dip of my shirt with his gaze, slowly taking in the sight of me. I swallow hard as my cheeks flame. Trying to distract myself is pointless, so I focus in on his inked arm. Three massive skulls sit intertwined with two crimson roses. The colorful tattoo covers one side of his arm in bright hues of orange and red. It’s a stark contrast to his dark skin and jet-black hair.

“Um, can I use your cell to call the apartment manager?” I ask, tearing my gaze from him and covering the front of myself.

By the sight of Erik’s amused smile, I know there’s no use hiding. He can see everything, especially the parts of me that jiggle a little too much. To my surprise, it doesn’t seem to bother him. I never pegged Erik to be the type of guy who likes curvy girls.

“Faster! Yes! Yes! Fuck me!”

The sound of a woman moaning fills the air between us. Oh shit. I’m not even sure what’s going on inside his appointment, but the pleasurable sound that echoes through the air fills me with envy. And something else too.

A loud thud vibrates against the wall followed by a deep throaty roar. I’m pretty sure someone else is over. A sheepish grin appears on Erik’s face as he checks over his shoulder. It doesn’t take long for the throes of passion to stop after one VERY loud orgasm. Almost seconds later, I hear heavy footsteps and the sound of a husky voice calling out over Erik’s shoulder.

“What’s going on man?”

My eyes are treated to the sight of a tall hunk in a white dress shirt that doesn’t hang nearly long enough. Don’t look. Don’t look. But I do.

I clench at the brief sighting of his cock. Fuck me. I’m. In. Trouble.

“Hi, can I help you,” the voice asks with irritation.

Bright baby blues stare at me as Erik leans back against the doorframe and makes room for his friend. The stranger’s eyes remind me of rain clouds hovering over the ocean. He’s gorgeous. And by the unimpressed expression on his face, he already knows it. Cocky. His body language screams over confidence. I force my eyes back to Erik, but it doesn’t help. His wicked grin only makes it harder to avoid the sight of his friend. The stranger’s white dress shirt stops just above his thigh, revealing just enough. My imagination is already spinning out of control. I almost choke at the brief sight of his glistening cock.

“Sorry, Rory, this is my roommate, Connor.”

Wait, he actually knows my name? Erik winks at me and it’s enough to send my panties into a heated mess.

“But you don’t have a roommate,” I blurt.

Perfect, Rory. Now Erik knows that you’re a peeper.

He looks up in surprise as the realization slowly hits him. The sexy dimple in his right cheek deepens. The damn thing is distracting, but so is the piercing on his lower lip. I’ve been imagining what it might feel like pressed up against my clit.

“Can we help you with something,” Connor interrupts.

The intensity of his gaze only seems to increase as the seconds fly by. He’s probably pissed that I interrupted his love fest.

“Uh, yeah. I was wondering if I could borrow your phone to call the apartment manager. I locked myself out.”

“Do you do that often?” Connor asks with a blank stare.

Something in his tone sets something off inside of me. Damn, I know I interrupted him but he really doesn’t need to be such a dick. Plus, if he was so busy why the hell did he stop to answer the door. It’s like he was looking for an excuse to get away from the one inside.

“Easy C, stop being an ass. She’s our neighbor.”

“It’s fine. I’ll just knock on Ms. Traeger’s door.”

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

I stop mid-turn to look up at Erik. His face splits into a grin. Ms. Traeger is gone for the month. Her grandson is babysitting her apartment while she’s on vacation.”

“Maybe he’s hot,” I say, giving Connor a poignant look.

“He’s not,” Connor says with a smirk.

A blaze of heat hits me sending a flush to my cheeks. What an arrogant prick. He probably thinks he’s the hottest shit ever made.

“Damn, you’ve got a temper don’t you,” Erik chuckles.

“Maybe I don’t like assholes.”

Before I have the opportunity to slip away, Connor pulls me toward him. The electricity that shoots through his fingertips and up my skin is enough to light up the whole goddamn city. He let’s me go just as quickly as he grabs me.

Fuck. What was that?

“You shouldn’t be in the hallway looking like that,” he mutters.

“Excuse me?”

“Come inside and I’ll get you my cell,” Erik says, breaking up the tension between us. “It’s in my room.”

I stare at both of them like they’ve grown horns. Go inside the apartment? For the past several months, I’ve been dreaming about this opportunity. Several nights I’ve rubbed one out just thinking about what it would be like to be one of the girls Erik brings home.

Is this my opening? Easy girl. He’s just offering you his cellphone. Not his dick.

Something New.

Over Christmas, I started working on a new serial within the Millionaire’s Row Series. It’s called Addicted to You. I’m really excited about this story because I’m tackling alcoholism, sexual shaming, and forgiveness.

My main character, Carol, is someone that I’ve grown to love. When I first wrote her into existence I had no intention of giving her her own story. I just wanted her to be Rebecca’s ballsy best friend, but I eventually realized that was a mistake. An alpha female like Carol could only have one heck of a story and I needed to write it.

So that’s what I’m up to.

I’m not sure how long it’s going to take me to finish. Maybe a month. Maybe two. Maybe three. Time will tell. One thing is for certain, I’m writing this one for me. 🙂 In the end, if you guys love it then FANTASTIC. If you hate it, well it was for me anyway. 😉

When I wrote Bound to You, I wrote it for myself and you guys loved it. Trust me to write another compelling story.

Xx,

Vanessa

P.S. If things work out this month, I plan on publishing the final PART of Bound to You. ❤

Mexico, here I come.

 

Lovelies,

In a few days, I will be leaving to Mexico for my sister’s wedding. The stress is on! I have SO many things to get done within the next few days. I do want you to know that I will be unavailable starting today through December 15th.

I’m hoping to release the final part of Bound to You before I leave for my trip (I leave in three days), so here’s hoping that everything works out. *Fingers crossed*. If for some reason it doesn’t happen, the final volume will not be released until I return on December 15th. I want to apologize in advance if this happens. I’m not sure how my wifi connection will be over in Mexico or if I’ll have much time to do business. It’s my first time being a Matron of Honor and I think I’ve definitely underestimated how stressful (although wonderful) this position is. LOL.

As a side note, I do want to thank those of you who have read the Bound to You series and who’ve stuck with me since the beginning. You guys are amazing! Thank you for being so patient. Really, thank you! I’m sure you’re tired of hearing me say this, but I’m still new at this being an author business. While I’ve learned SO much in the past year, I still going through my growing pains. While this process has been a bit of a learning curve for me, I can promise that 2016 is going to be a lot better. And a lot more structured.

I do hope that I can continue to write stories you guys enjoy. ❤ Thank you for taking a chance on me. ❤

P.S. I do want to repeat that this is Nicholas & Rebecca’s final volume. After PART 2, I will be moving on to new characters. As sad as that is, I’m also happy. They’re in a good place in their lives and that’s all I could ever really ask for.