Today's author in the spotlight is Zetta Brown and her new release Messalina - Devourer of Men.
Ms. Brown’s debut erotic romance, hit the streets in June 2008 and has already received an excellent, 5-star review on Amazon.com from The Original ChickLitGurrl as well as a Coffee Time Romance Reviewer Recommends Award.
A native Texan, she met her husband, author and publisher Jim Brown, online and their internet romance led to their marriage and her moving to Scotland. She has started to chronicle her experience in her blog, Sistah in Scotland, or SiS for short. She is also the owner of The Full-Bodied Book Blog that discusses “characters of substance” found in books of fiction and nonfiction.
Zetta holds a B.A. in English/Creative Writing from Southern Methodist University and is the author of several short stories publishes in literary journals. In 1998 she was the regional first-place winner for The National Society of Arts & Letters (NSAL) Award for Short Fiction. In 1999 and 2000, her stories were adapted for performance at the Craft of Writing conference in Denton, Texas. She has also had the honor of obtaining a residency at The Writers’ Colony in Dairy Hollow in 2002 as well as attending the Hurston-Wright Foundation’s Writers Week in 1998.
Author's Website: http://www.zettabrown.com
A native Texan, she met her husband, author and publisher Jim Brown, online and their internet romance led to their marriage and her moving to Scotland. She has started to chronicle her experience in her blog, Sistah in Scotland, or SiS for short. She is also the owner of The Full-Bodied Book Blog that discusses “characters of substance” found in books of fiction and nonfiction.
Zetta holds a B.A. in English/Creative Writing from Southern Methodist University and is the author of several short stories publishes in literary journals. In 1998 she was the regional first-place winner for The National Society of Arts & Letters (NSAL) Award for Short Fiction. In 1999 and 2000, her stories were adapted for performance at the Craft of Writing conference in Denton, Texas. She has also had the honor of obtaining a residency at The Writers’ Colony in Dairy Hollow in 2002 as well as attending the Hurston-Wright Foundation’s Writers Week in 1998.
Author's Website: http://www.zettabrown.com
Book's Webpage: http://messalina.zettabrown.com
BLURB
When life imitates art...expect to be framed.
Eva Cavell is a woman with an embarrassing secret. She is sexually frustrated and believes her size and race intimidates men. In an attempt to relieve her sexual tension, every Thursday she goes to a local movie theater and allows strangers to fondle her in the dark.
During one of her escapades she meets renowned artist, Jared Delaney, a smooth Southern gentleman with irresistible violet eyes. He has been watching Eva on her weekly visits and sees through her icy defence straight to the hot passion burning underneath.
But Eva has an image to uphold as a tenure-track instructor at a private Denver college and as the youngest child of a prominent black family. Will she ever be able to live her life how she wants and without shame? In order to do so, she has to own up to her own choices in life.
Eva Cavell is a woman with an embarrassing secret. She is sexually frustrated and believes her size and race intimidates men. In an attempt to relieve her sexual tension, every Thursday she goes to a local movie theater and allows strangers to fondle her in the dark.
During one of her escapades she meets renowned artist, Jared Delaney, a smooth Southern gentleman with irresistible violet eyes. He has been watching Eva on her weekly visits and sees through her icy defence straight to the hot passion burning underneath.
But Eva has an image to uphold as a tenure-track instructor at a private Denver college and as the youngest child of a prominent black family. Will she ever be able to live her life how she wants and without shame? In order to do so, she has to own up to her own choices in life.
EXCERPT
During the film I try to concentrate but can’t help glancing at my watch. It’s been nearly an hour and he hasn’t tried anything. Apart from pushing up the armrest to remove any barrier between us, he hasn’t touched me. We’re just two people enjoying a movie together. But watching a movie with a man who’s not feeling me up is a new experience for me and I can’t help stealing side-glances at him.
He’s different from other men, that’s for damn sure. He had the balls to come up and start a real conversation, and what a pick-up too. I’ll give him an A+ for that. My palms are sweating and, between my legs, I feel hot and empty—and wet. He turns his head and catches me spying. He grins like I just sprang his trap. I turn away. His right arm goes around the back of my seat and he leans over to whisper.
“Evadne, it’s OK if you look.”
When I turn in his direction, his face is so close to mine I can feel it when he exhales. The scent of his cologne mixing with the coffee he just drank makes my mouth water. I close the distance. Our kiss is gentle, unhurried and tastes of chocolate and coffee. He gently takes hold of my chin to deepen our kiss.
“I knew those lips had to be delicious,” he says when we part to take a breath. His hand goes up the back of my neck and into my hair. I lean into the caress, exposing my throat, letting his lips linger on my neck. His tongue tickles along the surging throb of my pulse. I sigh and my hand falls to the side split of my skirt. Pushing the thin material over, I slide my fingers up between my legs.
His long eyelashes flutter against my throat as he opens his eyes to see what I’m doing. Then I feel his hand, warm and soft, reach over to cup under my knee. He crooks my leg over his and I moan softly when he places his hand on mine. What sounds like my voice growls “yes” loud enough for him to take his cue and gently press our fingers inside me.
My head lolls back against his arm as my private entrance admits us, hand in hand, with my small forefinger next to his long, thick, middle and forefingers. We work together to build a rhythm and his thumb gently rubs the top of my clitoris. My hips jerk up and I gasp. He increases his hold on me while clamping his mouth onto my neck, just like the big cats do to restrain their prey.
His lips open to suck in the flesh of my neck into his mouth before biting down. His teeth dig in and hold before releasing and repeating the process. He’s found my weak spot. I have a thing for necks and, although they may look trashy, I love hickies. These malignant bruises serve as the calling cards of heavy petting. I love giving and receiving them. But despite his amorous assault on my neck, I get caught up with the feel of his two, three—four—fingers pumping inside me. Aww—fuck! He’s about to get a real orgasm out of me! It’s evident by the moist, sucking sounds coming from me. I’m almost there.
“God damn, Evadne, you’re so wet,” he says with such awe it only thrills me more and this time my groan is louder than expected.
My eyelids pop open and I remember we are not alone. Focusing my eyes, I count less than six people sitting in the rows behind us but they’re on the opposite side of the theater. From what I can tell, they’re all watching the screen. Then I see one man sitting in the row directly behind us but several seats to the left.
He wears a white T-shirt and stares directly at us, unashamed. Hearing a muted, squelching sound, I glance down and see his lightweight jacket lying across his lap, bobbing up and down.
Catching my breath, I don’t know whether to stop Jared and bring the man to his attention. But he’s about to rip a climax from me and I’ll be damned if I’m going to sacrifice it. I open my mouth slightly in expectation, so does Jerk-Off Man who mouths the words I love you as his hand pumps harder and faster.
Instead of moaning, I scowl at our voyeur and his face crumbles as he shoots his wad. I make sure he sees me take Jared’s earlobe into my mouth to nibble on it and I think, Yeah, buddy you wish you could have some of this. Jared moans and licks at my throat in return.
“Touch me,” he begs from against my neck and his strained voice startles me. I reach between his legs and encounter a sharp rise in his jeans. He moves back and I unzip his pants and fumble for the opening. Once inside, I give his swollen cock a squeeze and he sighs as if I’ve done him a great favor.
“Oh, yes,” he whispers and rests his forehead against my temple.
A slight tug gets his whole length out. His cock is getting thicker as blood rushes to swell it, making the skin tight. My God, it feels lovely, like a thick pipe wrapped in warm suede. Then, as to be expected, a scene change lights up the room, allowing me a better look.
During my theater adventures, I have encountered a lot of men of different races and have concluded that there is no accurate way to guess a man’s penis size by looks alone. You have to experience him, literally, first hand.
And my chest heaves at the thought of getting fucked senseless by his cock. It’s long and thick and the tip of its swollen head is moist. I lick my lips, wishing for a taste—but that goes against my rules.
His thumb presses my clitoris once again and I have to bury my face in the curve of his neck to keep from crying out. I grab his wrist and start guiding him, pumping his hand, making him fist fuck me harder, faster, and when he touches my clit again, I come, for the first time in ages, all over his creative, talented fingers.
The world falls out from under me and I’m on a roller coaster going down a bottomless pit. My orgasm goes on and on, overflowing and spilling onto the seat.
“Ah, lovely,” he sighs. “That’s it, sugar. Oh, yes, darlin’ . . . give it to me.”
And I do. I want to. But I’m not going to be alone in this. I pump my fist tighter and faster along his cock until his essence drips onto my hand providing me with just enough to lubricate my strokes. Jared thrusts, ever so slightly and I apply more pressure to increase the friction. He turns my face to his and stabs his tongue far into my mouth, leaning into me, and I push back until I’m nearly climbing on top of him instead. He gives a moan of surprise against my mouth, driving his tongue deeper and I thrust my hips so his fingers can delve farther.
This man, whom I’ve met just over an hour ago, has gotten me more aroused than I have been in my life. But I’m not the only one excited. The skin of his penis is tight. He’s going to explode.
“Mmm, that’s right, baby.” I smile against his lips before they crush mine again, taking my tongue deep inside his mouth. Sparks of purple, yellow, and green flash behind my eyelids. Suddenly, he thrusts his hips and thick, warm jet streams of cream erupt against my skirt and seeps through to my thighs. He shudders against me and releases his pent-up breath in a low, guttural moan and relaxes. My loins weep against his hand for being left out, but after all...we’ve just met.
Buy link - http://www.logicallustbooks.com/messalina.html
He’s different from other men, that’s for damn sure. He had the balls to come up and start a real conversation, and what a pick-up too. I’ll give him an A+ for that. My palms are sweating and, between my legs, I feel hot and empty—and wet. He turns his head and catches me spying. He grins like I just sprang his trap. I turn away. His right arm goes around the back of my seat and he leans over to whisper.
“Evadne, it’s OK if you look.”
When I turn in his direction, his face is so close to mine I can feel it when he exhales. The scent of his cologne mixing with the coffee he just drank makes my mouth water. I close the distance. Our kiss is gentle, unhurried and tastes of chocolate and coffee. He gently takes hold of my chin to deepen our kiss.
“I knew those lips had to be delicious,” he says when we part to take a breath. His hand goes up the back of my neck and into my hair. I lean into the caress, exposing my throat, letting his lips linger on my neck. His tongue tickles along the surging throb of my pulse. I sigh and my hand falls to the side split of my skirt. Pushing the thin material over, I slide my fingers up between my legs.
His long eyelashes flutter against my throat as he opens his eyes to see what I’m doing. Then I feel his hand, warm and soft, reach over to cup under my knee. He crooks my leg over his and I moan softly when he places his hand on mine. What sounds like my voice growls “yes” loud enough for him to take his cue and gently press our fingers inside me.
My head lolls back against his arm as my private entrance admits us, hand in hand, with my small forefinger next to his long, thick, middle and forefingers. We work together to build a rhythm and his thumb gently rubs the top of my clitoris. My hips jerk up and I gasp. He increases his hold on me while clamping his mouth onto my neck, just like the big cats do to restrain their prey.
His lips open to suck in the flesh of my neck into his mouth before biting down. His teeth dig in and hold before releasing and repeating the process. He’s found my weak spot. I have a thing for necks and, although they may look trashy, I love hickies. These malignant bruises serve as the calling cards of heavy petting. I love giving and receiving them. But despite his amorous assault on my neck, I get caught up with the feel of his two, three—four—fingers pumping inside me. Aww—fuck! He’s about to get a real orgasm out of me! It’s evident by the moist, sucking sounds coming from me. I’m almost there.
“God damn, Evadne, you’re so wet,” he says with such awe it only thrills me more and this time my groan is louder than expected.
My eyelids pop open and I remember we are not alone. Focusing my eyes, I count less than six people sitting in the rows behind us but they’re on the opposite side of the theater. From what I can tell, they’re all watching the screen. Then I see one man sitting in the row directly behind us but several seats to the left.
He wears a white T-shirt and stares directly at us, unashamed. Hearing a muted, squelching sound, I glance down and see his lightweight jacket lying across his lap, bobbing up and down.
Catching my breath, I don’t know whether to stop Jared and bring the man to his attention. But he’s about to rip a climax from me and I’ll be damned if I’m going to sacrifice it. I open my mouth slightly in expectation, so does Jerk-Off Man who mouths the words I love you as his hand pumps harder and faster.
Instead of moaning, I scowl at our voyeur and his face crumbles as he shoots his wad. I make sure he sees me take Jared’s earlobe into my mouth to nibble on it and I think, Yeah, buddy you wish you could have some of this. Jared moans and licks at my throat in return.
“Touch me,” he begs from against my neck and his strained voice startles me. I reach between his legs and encounter a sharp rise in his jeans. He moves back and I unzip his pants and fumble for the opening. Once inside, I give his swollen cock a squeeze and he sighs as if I’ve done him a great favor.
“Oh, yes,” he whispers and rests his forehead against my temple.
A slight tug gets his whole length out. His cock is getting thicker as blood rushes to swell it, making the skin tight. My God, it feels lovely, like a thick pipe wrapped in warm suede. Then, as to be expected, a scene change lights up the room, allowing me a better look.
During my theater adventures, I have encountered a lot of men of different races and have concluded that there is no accurate way to guess a man’s penis size by looks alone. You have to experience him, literally, first hand.
And my chest heaves at the thought of getting fucked senseless by his cock. It’s long and thick and the tip of its swollen head is moist. I lick my lips, wishing for a taste—but that goes against my rules.
His thumb presses my clitoris once again and I have to bury my face in the curve of his neck to keep from crying out. I grab his wrist and start guiding him, pumping his hand, making him fist fuck me harder, faster, and when he touches my clit again, I come, for the first time in ages, all over his creative, talented fingers.
The world falls out from under me and I’m on a roller coaster going down a bottomless pit. My orgasm goes on and on, overflowing and spilling onto the seat.
“Ah, lovely,” he sighs. “That’s it, sugar. Oh, yes, darlin’ . . . give it to me.”
And I do. I want to. But I’m not going to be alone in this. I pump my fist tighter and faster along his cock until his essence drips onto my hand providing me with just enough to lubricate my strokes. Jared thrusts, ever so slightly and I apply more pressure to increase the friction. He turns my face to his and stabs his tongue far into my mouth, leaning into me, and I push back until I’m nearly climbing on top of him instead. He gives a moan of surprise against my mouth, driving his tongue deeper and I thrust my hips so his fingers can delve farther.
This man, whom I’ve met just over an hour ago, has gotten me more aroused than I have been in my life. But I’m not the only one excited. The skin of his penis is tight. He’s going to explode.
“Mmm, that’s right, baby.” I smile against his lips before they crush mine again, taking my tongue deep inside his mouth. Sparks of purple, yellow, and green flash behind my eyelids. Suddenly, he thrusts his hips and thick, warm jet streams of cream erupt against my skirt and seeps through to my thighs. He shudders against me and releases his pent-up breath in a low, guttural moan and relaxes. My loins weep against his hand for being left out, but after all...we’ve just met.
Buy link - http://www.logicallustbooks.com/messalina.html
4 comments:
Great spotlight - and you already know that I ADORE this book!
Wow, Thanks for sharing Zetta with us all Eliza...love the cover art and her background story. This is a book I will buy for sure!
Kudos to you both!
AJ
Hot excerpt! I really enjoyed this spotlight.
Melissa
Congrats on the spotlight, Zetta! Love the excerpt!
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