Hi Everyone!
Spotlight today is on VAMPS- A HaremLit Thriller. This one is–perhaps not a slow burn (I may be incapable of that)–definitely a controlled burn harem story that takes place over (so far) at least 50k words. It’s growing and growing, with serial releases every two weeks, but the end is in sight–and it’s available only to Premium Access Subscribers!
Blurb:
Graham is a thief, a liar, and a con man who’s stumbled into something far more dangerous than any mark—the genuine devotion of Faye Winther, a breathtaking heiress whose inexplicable affection for him borders on worship. He should walk away.
He can’t.
Now, trapped in his own con at a desolate Swedish resort in the dead of winter, Graham faces a new problem: a devastatingly beautiful vampiress who takes a very specific interest in him and his fiancée. Countess Elsa Malmquist is wealth and seduction incarnate—five hundred years of immortal perfection wrapped in designer couture. All she wants is her own darling den of vampires just like her, hot forever-beautiful vamps eager to trade boring old morality for fashionable, murderous eternity.
But the town itself is a magnet for trouble. Vampire hunters converge. An ancient evil threatens to awaken. And through it all, Graham discovers the devotion he inspires is just as magical—if not more so—as any supernatural being.
By the time he understands what he truly is, it will be too late to turn back.
Some men collect wealth. Some collect power.
Graham is about to collect an eternity of beautiful, devoted, immortal women who will never let him go.
VAMPS is a darkly seductive haremlit thriller featuring supernatural romance, mind-bending twists, and a lucky antihero who discovers that being irresistible to gorgeous vampire women comes with a price—and privileges—beyond imagination.
The First 1000-ish Words:
Graham’s cock throbbed in Faye’s elegant fingers. The small roadside hotel room was dim, the Swedish winter night pressing against the frosted window. He could hear the wind howling outside, but all he could focus on was the heat of her palm, the slow deliberate stroke of her hand along his shaft.
It was the deepest, darkest part of the night. They had made love earlier, and then fallen asleep. Under the sheets, asleep clinging to her, he had become erect again—waking her. And now she woke him, dreamy and slow.
“I can’t believe it,” Faye whispered. Her voice was soft, breathy, perfectly modulated even in her arousal. “I love you so much. I’m so lucky.”
This wasn’t he wanted at all.
Like, okay, sure, did he want an absolutely gorgeous, wealthy young woman totally in love with him?
Yes. Of course he did. Who wouldn’t?
But not this way. He hadn’t planned this. He hadn’t intended this. He—prior to the whirlwind of the last six weeks—didn’t even know anyone could be as beautiful, warm, as generous as Faye.
She leaned closer. Her bare breasts pressed against his ribs. The scent of her perfume—something expensive he couldn’t name—filled his nostrils. The bathroom light was on, spilling a sliver of illumination that caught her just so. Her chocolate chestnut hair cascaded over her shoulders, framing the sensual architecture of her face. Her blue eyes were wide, pupils dilated with need.
“You are my. Whole. World.”
Graham’s jaw tightened. He wanted to pull away. He wanted to confess everything. Instead he reached up and cupped her face, his thumb brushing the sharp line of her cheekbone. She was so beautiful it hurt to look at her. Tall, slender, toned.
Her skin was flawless, poreless, glowing in the dim light. The fetching line of her clavicle drew his eye as she shifted, adjusting herself to straddle his thigh. Her pussy, sopping wet, juiced on his quadriceps and slid down to settle between his heavy balls and hard cock.
“The heir to the House of Antrim,” she said, her hand still working his cock with that maddening rhythm. “Falling for someone like me. I know you said your family lost everything, but the lineage alone…”
She bit her lip. The gesture was unconscious, aristocratic even in its vulnerability.
It wasn’t his, this old and noble house she said he had.
She said he had it, of course, because he had said he had it—because six weeks ago, he hadn’t yet fallen in love with Faye and she’d had money he wanted and seemed an easy-enough mark for a night or two.
And yet even so, he found her fascination with his nobility maddeningly attractive.
Graham’s cock pulsed harder in her expert grip. He couldn’t help it—the contrast was fucking intoxicating. Out there, in the world, Faye was imperious. She’d dismissed the hotel clerk with a glance, treated the bellhop with the kind of casual disdain reserved for furniture. At dinner, she’d sent back the wine twice, her voice never rising above a murmur but somehow making the sommelier look ready to weep.
She knew what was best. She knew what was right. She knew quality when she saw it, and she knew garbage when she saw it, and she had no problem making sure everyone else knew it too.
But here? Now?
Her hand moved faster on his shaft, her breath coming in short gasps against his neck. She was melting for him. Dissolving. That regal bearing, that aristocratic poise—all of it still there, but softened. Molded into something pliant and giving and desperate for his approval.
“Graham,” she whispered, and the way she said his name made his balls tighten. “Tell me you love me. Please.”
The please fucking destroyed him.
She never said please. Not to waiters, not to staff, not to anyone who served her.
He groaned. Pretending he was still waking up, even though his mind was racing.
“I told my mother about you yesterday. She was so excited. She wants to meet you. She wants to know everything about your family’s history.”
Graham’s stomach dropped. He forced himself to remain still, to keep his expression neutral. Inside, regret clawed at his throat.
“She said the Antrims were once one of the great houses,” Faye continued. Her voice had taken on a dreamy quality. “Before the troubles. Before the estate was lost. She said it was romantic. Like something from a novel.”
Her hand squeezed him tighter. Her thumb swept over the head of his cock, spreading the bead of precum there.
“I can’t wait for you to call your family tomorrow. To tell them about us. About our engagement.”
She leaned down, her lips brushing his ear.
“I want everyone to know I’m yours forever.”
Graham’s hands moved to her waist. He could feel the ridges of her ribs beneath his palms, the taut muscle of her abdomen. Her—frankly, absurd—body was not helping the conflict raging within him. Tiny waist, impossibly slender limbs, soft to hold and hard when she posed (which she did for him often and easily; she loved how she looked), all of which seemed designed in a lab to present the impeccably full breasts she possessed. They weren’t large—not exactly—just slightly too large for her petite, tall frame and so looked even bigger as a result (and that was before she expertly and eagerly put them on display in lingerie or any of a library of revealing outfits she had access to even as they traveled).
She was perfection, and she was his, and he was going to break her heart.
The thought made him sick.
Faye’s breath hitched as his fingers dug into her sides. She rocked against his thigh, her wetness smearing against his skin. She was soaked, desperate, needy in a way that should have alarmed him but instead fed something dark and hungry in his chest…
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