Time to realease the next Danielle D. Smith "power couple" on the masses.
Since the release of Black Dog and Rebel Rose, I have gained many new readers and fans who have developed a strong affinity for my characters. Said affinity has incuded a demand for telling the tale of where everyone's favorite half demon bad boy came from...
Here is a snippet from my upcoming erotic horror story, In The Neon, which my beta readers are practically salivating to get their claws on...
Faust chuckled to himself and soon he had slipped in alone to see Annie.
Once again he waved his hand in front of the token box, like a magician, and the velvet screen had pulled aside, revealing Annie sitting on her stool. This time she was dressed in a purple bustier, flouncy see-through black lace miniskirt and shiny black vinyl stiletto sandals that laced all the way up to her slender thighs. She raised her head and her weary eyes lit up when she saw him.
“Faustie!” she cried merrily, grinning from ear to ear. “You came back!”
Faust sat down on the stained cement floor, cross-legged, and pressed his palm to the Plexiglas that separated them.
“Of course. I couldn’t stay away too long, Annie.”
Annie knelt down across from him and pressed her pale hand to the window; it was as if they could almost touch, and Faust once again felt the most powerful, forbidden emotions rocketing through him like fireworks.
“I missed you,” Annie whispered, her cheeks flushing prettily, like soft pink roses blooming beneath her skin, and he couldn’t agree with her more. “Can I ask you something?”
Faust smiled; she could ask him anything, anything at all. “Of course.”
Annie pushed away from the plexiglass wall and twirled prettily; the sheer lace skirt swirled up around her hips. She paused, her back to him, lifting the skirt to reveal the high ripe slope of her buttocks and tiny floss g-string. Faust sucked his breath in sharply.
By the Master...
“Is my butt looking okay?”
“Looks beautiful,” Faust choked. Annie's green eyes twinkled merrily. She turned to face him; she unhooked the purple bra and suddenly Faust was staring at her gorgeous full breasts. Annie cupped them and gave them an appraising massage, her rose-pink nipples hardening between her fingers.
“Do I need bigger tits?” Her eyes gleamed again. He exhaled raggedly.
“No,” he murmured, “why do you ask?”
Annie laughed. She swirled her hips seductively and crouched down before him again.
“The guy who was in here before you said I have a squishy butt and I need a boob job.”
Faust grunted and decided that he had another soul to hunt down later tonight. “A fool. They're all fools, Annie. Your beauty...is paramount. That they would even speak such filth...”
Annie sighed, blushing. “I love the way you talk, Faust.” She ran her fingers through her long blonde tresses and sent his heart pounding in a flurry.
“How have you been outside of here, Annie?” he asked her softly.
She shrugged. “Okay. Nothing out of the ordinary. Same old, same old. I did pick up a copy of Goethe’s story about Faustus and Mephistopheles at a used book store the other day…I think you inspired me to read it a second time.”
Faust found himself grinning hugely. “That is well, Annie. I’m glad I…I inspired something of interest to you. Are you enjoying it again?”
“Quite. Maybe even a little more than I did the first time I read it.”
There was a sweet silence between them, and they gazed at each other, onyx black meeting pale lime green. Annie tapped the glass with a long pink nail and smirked, winking at him.
“You know,” she mused, “we really should make time to meet outside of this place. It might be a little more comfortable to talk without a sheet of plexi between us.”
Faust cocked his head, and his dark eyes gleamed.
“Are you suggesting,” he said softly, “that you would like to meet me elsewhere…perhaps a social calling?”
Annie nodded, grinning; her teeth were straight and white and lovely.
“Yeah, I think I am. Tell me, Faust, are you always a late night man?”
Faust spread his burly arms, his chin raised proudly. “The night is my mistress, and I her eager lover.”
Annie licked her rosy lips then, and something stirred in him, something very much like a whirlwind, one that picked him up and spun him around helplessly like a leaf in a tornado. To Faust, demon-born, this was entirely new. He was not used to feeling so very helpless, so very enamored.
“Very sexy…you have a way with words,” Annie murmured. “What would you say to meeting me here tomorrow night, when my shift is over? I get off early, if you can call midnight early—we could grab a coffee, or something. Talk about books.”
Faust gazed at her, his lips parted; her very words were, on one hand, like a dream come true. She wanted to meet with him, outside of this place, the place where he fished for his victims, where he plucked the Master’s fruit and sent them screaming to Hell in a hand basket. And he wanted to; oh, how he wanted to, if only to be near her in the open air, to smell her perfume and hear the rustle of her clothing up close. Another part of him, the dutiful demon who knew only one thing
(damnation of all)
screaming and pounding at his skull
(we are not of God we do not love we do not do not do not!!!)
and he suddenly found himself pushing away at that voice, that screeching infernal beastie that was him, or what he had thought he was, up until now.
By the Master…is she transforming me?
He pushed the thought away and pressed his hand once again to the glass.
“Annie,” he said, “it would be my pleasure.”
She grinned hugely, her jade eyes sparkling, and he sighed audibly at the joy in her face.
“Great, Faust. I’m so glad. Tomorrow night then. Midnight.”
“As you wish. The witching hour it is. I shall…see you on the morrow.”
There was a rusty clank and the velvet curtain swished closed, separating them once again.
(c) Danielle D. Smith
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED!!!