22 Sizzling Contemporary and Paranormal Romance Stories
Alpha Fever is filled with a scintillating, spicy blend of ***BRAND NEW*** contemporary and paranormal romance stories written by 24 NY Times, USA Today, and Amazon best selling Authors wrapped up in one amazing boxed set! Elianne Adams – Erzabet Bishop – Muffy Wilson – Rozlyn Sparks –Jacintha Topaz – Elvira Bathory – Tara Crescent – Crystal Dawn – Tricia Owens – D. F. Krieger – A.C. Nixon – Isis Pierce – Abi Aiken – Dawn White – Kiki Howell – Gina Kincade – Bethany Shaw – Danielle Gavan – Abby Hayes – Paige Matthews – Tierney O'Malley – Jacqueline Sweet – Angelica Dawson – Tanith Davenport
Fall in Savannah, GA, is usually pretty mild. However, today is a dark day, between the pain I can feel in my bones, the loss of my Uncle, and my President. My head pounded as my uncle’s casket was lowered to the ground. The chrome pins from the brothers in the Syndicate were shining in the late afternoon sunlight. When the creator of your bike club dies, everyone comes out and shows their respect. I looked over to Lucas and noticed the solitary tear running down his face. I had wished mom would come, but when she said she wanted nothing to do with my uncle, she meant it.
After the funeral we made our way back to the clubhouse for the wake. Lots of beer, drugs, and beautiful women. That’s how Uncle Luke rolled. I almost burst out laughing when I saw the gravestone cake Casey had ordered.
“Do you really think that cake was the wisest choice Casey?” I said, trying to hide my amusement. Casey shrugged and smiled at me as she made her way to my side. This wasn’t the way I wanted to get my Pres tab.
“I would like to introduce everyone to your new President of the Sinister Sons Syndicate! Fucking hear, hear!” Blade grabbed my arm and held it high in the air. He pulled me in for a hug, and patted my back as I buried my head in his shoulder.
Hammer stands in the corner, sipping on his jack. He sneers at one of the hunnies as she tries to sneak by him.
“Thanks for coming everyone. I hate getting together on these circumstances, but does a son ever really need a fucking reason to party?!” I lifted my drink in the air.
I finished my drink and snuck off to my room. I kept the light off so no one would notice, but to no avail. Casey snuck in and whispered through the darkness, “Gavin are you here?”
I reached forward in the dark and pulled Casey into my arms, conquering her lips as I pushed her toward the bed. I slowly laid her down, as she pulled her panties off from under her skirt. I unzipped my pants, and let my throbbing dick loose from the confines of my jeans. I crawled in between Casey’s tight legs, and pressed the tip of my thick cock deep inside her wetness. She let out a moan, as I pressed myself into her harder and harder. I reached up Casey’s shirt and grabbed her large breasts.
Casey reached around and grabbed my tight ass. She matched my rhythm as she wrapped her legs tight around my waist.
I could feel the pressure starting to twitch in my balls, and before I could stop it– I spilled my seed deep inside her wet cunt. I unsheathed myself from her heat.
She moaned as she pressed up to kiss my lips.
I crawled off of her and made my way to the small bathroom attached to my room. I flipped the lever to the shower, stripped, and stepped in.
I could hear the loud music of the party even over the volume of water in my shower.
Casey knocked on the door and stepped in. “Gavin, are you okay?”
“I’m fine, Casey. Just taking a shower.”
“I know, but he was like a father to you and Lucas. I was just trying to check on you.” Casey said as she closed the door behind her.
Within a moment of Casey being gone, there was another tap on the door. “Holy Fuck! I’m fine, just let me have a fucking minute, Casey.” I growled.
“Gavin, it’s me.” Lucas said as he closed the door behind him. He stuck his head in the shower to see me.
“What do you want, Lucas?” I said as I looked up into the water and let it cascade down my body. My tattooed chest, and arms always made the bubbles look tri-colored. I finished rinsing my black hair, and turned the shower off. I grabbed my towel and stepped out.
“I was just making sure you’re all right, Gavin.” Lucas said as he leaned against the sink.
“I’m fine. I don’t know why y’all are so damned worried about me.” I said with my irritation clear in my voice.
“He was my best friend, Uncle, and President. Of course it fucking hurts, but in our line of work, it’s kind of guaranteed. I know I’m never going to be able to have a retirement, and that’s ok with me. If it’s not okay with you then you’re in the wrong fucking family, bro.” I held the door open for Lucas to leave, and dressed in my usual jeans, and black t-shirt. I slid my boots on and pulled my kutte on. My VP tab was gone, and about to be replaced with the Pres Tab. I always wanted this job, but not like this.
The Butterfly Collector
The doorbell rang, knocking Oliver out of his self-reflecting trance and as he jumped to his feet, he also took a cautious step back. His eyes darted towards the mantel clock above the fire. It was 10 o’clock.
Who would be calling at this late hour? he thought as he moved away from his desk. Maybe if I’m quiet, whoever it is will just go away.
But to his own surprise, he walked toward the huge oak front door with his hand out, slowly grasping for the knob. When the doorbell rang again he jumped, startled, and stopped in his tracks. He was overcome with fear and he froze. He was thinking of the home invasions that were always in the news, but then he reasoned with himself that a burglar would not ring his doorbell. Would he? His heart was pounding, racing in his chest, despite his efforts to calm himself.
“Who is it?” he called out.
Another surprise stroked his ears when a sweet voice floated back in reply, “It's just me, Victoria Blakely, from next door. I need some help.”
He switched the porch light on and peeked through the peephole. He unlatched the door, still trembling. Taking a deep and determined breath, he squared off and stole some courage.
He opened the door, just a crack, and peered out into the night. As his eyes adjusted, he found himself looking into the most stunning green eyes, framed by raven curls. He was sure he had never seen a more beautiful pair of perfectly matched eyes in all his lonely life. He couldn't stop himself from pulling the door open all the way. Then, as awkwardly as always, he mumbled, “Do I know you?”
“Does that matter? I need some help; I need your help.”
She looked back at his stricken face and quickly, with the confidence only beautiful women possess, brushed past him out of the falling rain and into the entryway.
“I just moved in next door and I came home to find that the electricity has gone out. I don't know who to call and I remembered my agent saying a nice older man lived here. So, can you help me?”
“Well…Victoria, is it? It is after ten and I see your house is dark. It's cold and wet and I’m not sure there is anyone you can call at this hour for help at the power company.”
He stepped back knowing that he was once again showing his complete lack of social skills with the opposite sex. “Forgive me. I'm so sorry. My name is Oliver Brainard, won't you come in and we will see what can be done.”
Victoria walked into the nicely decorated living room where the glow of a warm fire greeted her frustration with open flames and a soft, pleasant crackling. She settled into the warm grasp of a large overstuffed, well-worn leather sofa. She watched him follow into the room, limping slightly. Her eyes closed for a moment.
“Are you limping?” she asked.
“Ah, yes, yes I am. I do.”
“Are you injured or do you have a disability?”
“Would you like a drink or something, Victoria?” His voice, nervous and shaking, came from nowhere. Oliver, having startled even himself, shifted uneasily in his obvious discomfort with the unexpected company.
“Please.” Then, without hesitation, she added, “white wine if you have it.”
He nodded quietly in acknowledgement, hobbled into the kitchen and returned with a glass of something white.
“Riesling,” he said to this vision of loveliness.
She sat with her eyes closed and head back, resting on the sofa. He stopped mid-stride and simply stared at her profile. He realized he was becoming aroused. This lovely creature who had invaded his loneliness did not move from her position on the couch. Despite his growing bulge, he moved toward her with the glass of wine and when she sat up she was eye-to-cock with the object of her inspiration.
She ran her eyes up his torso slowly as she took the wine and asked simply, “Have you been thinking about something pleasant?”
Turning a deep shade of red, he took a step back, stumbling slightly and covered himself with his hands.
“No, please don't cover your thoughts,” she said softly. “It's only natural to be attracted to a beautiful woman.” She tossed her head with confidence, sending her raven curls swinging.
“But…forgive me. I don’t have many late night female visitors; I’m so embarrassed!”
“I would hardly call this ‘late night’ and, after all, it is Friday night, when the wicked and the wanton flourish!”
He took a faltering breath. “We should see to your situation at hand, and find an emergency number for the electric company.”
“Interesting you should use that term ‘at hand’.” Her eyes fell to his crotch.
Then, with one deliberate and commanding motion, she placed the glass on the end table, reached out boldly, and gently grabbed a handful of his pants and him. She pulled him toward her and slowly squeezed so he could not step back.
Oliver was frozen in his tracks. What he lacked in the power over his immediate situation, he gained in response. He was clearly very receptive.
“I think you need something, neighbor,” she whispered, as she opened his belt and slowly lowered his zipper, pulling his pants to the floor. He stood motionless as her hand worked its way back and forth over his hard penis. He was bigger than he ever experienced alone, harder than he could have dreamed possible. She had her right hand buried at the base of his penis, teasing his testicles, working his shaft into an uncontrollable passion-driven reaction. She reached around behind him with her left hand, grabbing the firmly rounded cheeks of his ass pulling him forward, closer to her face.
He stood in paralyzed horror. He was disassociated from his own body and watched as a distant silent witness as his cock stood proud like a willful puppy eager to please.
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Muffy, author of provocative romance about love, sex, hope and passion, was born in Texas to traditional parents. With two older brothers, she was the youngest, the family "princess," indulged and pampered. Her father was a career Colonel and pilot in the U.S. Air Force which required the family to travel extensively. Muffy spent her formative years in Europe and 'came of age' in France which forged her joie de vivre and love for books, writing and education.
Married and living in the tropical paradise of SW Florida along the Gulf Coast, Muffy dabbles in real estate, writes and enjoys life in the sun with her husband and wee Havanese pup, Burt.
~ Live, Laugh, Love with Passion
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Mar 2016 ~ Alpha Fever Anthology with Gina Kincade from Naughty Nights Press
The Butterfly Collection by Muffy Wilson
The Butterfly Collection by Muffy Wilson
Apr 2016 ~ My Life in the Sky A Memoir of Lt. Col. Joe Lyle Jr
Aug 2016 ~ Sequel to The Para-Portage of Emily
Nov 2016 ~ Ribbons of Moonlight Sequel to Moonbeams of Unintended Consequences
© 2000-2016 Muffy Wilson. [Muffy@MuffyWilson.com] All rights reserved. Content may not be copied or used in whole or part without written permission from the author.