Searching for the Kingdom Key
Page 1
Searching
for the
Kingdom
Key
Book 1 of the Kingdom Key Series
By:
TylerRose.
© 1985, 2014, 2015 TylerRose.
All Rights Reserved
No part of this work may be reproduced in any fashion
except with express written permission of the author.
Buying a copy does not give you that right.
Made in the USA
Produced by:
TylerRose.
P.O. Box 4341
Sunnyside, NY 11104
Other Books Available
Fiction
Peeper
Peeper Ascendant
Peeper of Gloriana
Peeper Resplendent
The Healer
Arlyn the Deliverer
Evil’s Heart/The Cottage
Last Holy Woman of Mida
Culpation League
Non-Fictions
Auntie Tyler’s Crochet Garden
Tao Teh Ching for the Family
Beleagrrred Sadist
50 Shades of OH SH*T
50 Shades Sh*ttier
The Complete Award-Winning 50 Shades of OH SH*T
Another 50 Shades of OH SH*T
Dear Reader:
There are two acknowledgements that I must make with this particular series.
Way back when, in 1977 when I was eight little years old, my father took me to a movie. This was nothing new. We did this on a lot of Sundays and he took me to most of the films I saw as a child.
This one was different. As I sat there in my seat and the blaring trumpets began and words scrolled up on the screen, and the biggest space ship I’d ever seen came on…Something happened.
As a teenaged boy, more a young man, frustrated with what he perceived to be his dead end life, was suddenly catapulted on the Journey that would be his Life…Something happened to me.
Fighting the enemy with gun-looking things that shot energy bullets and men engaged in swordfights with sabers made of light… Something happened inside my mind.
As a teenager took his first steps into manhood and realized he had the greatest destiny a person could ever know…My little 8-year-old brain went
KA-BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!
And expanded at the speed of light into a consciousness previously unknown. The powers of the mind, the adventures of Life on unknown worlds and, Universes that exist in the imagination.
I was created.
My cousin (who designed the cover of this book) and I played Star Wars endlessly. Before school, after school—it was all we thought about. He had a gajillion toys, including the Death Star and we re-enacted the movie and came up with our own scenes time and time again, day after day, hour after hour. We never tired of playing it, talking about it, speculating.
Where before there had been Wonder Woman and Batman now resided Luke, Leia, Han Solo and Darth Vader.
Star Wars exists in my fictional universe as the fictional saga it is. The lessons in it are too valuable to be ignored and the character of Tyler Rose takes them to heart. They’re all she has.
My God’s name is George.
Thank you, George. For Everything.
Love, TylerRose.
My Pseudonym
I created the character of Tyler Rose Marie Brooks in March of 1985. Sometime in 1998 or 1999, I needed a code name and an email address my then husband didn’t know about. I was in the process of leaving him and needed an email I could use to make inquiries and set things up. I needed a pseudonym to use in public circles when I started to go to clubs, which I expected to start doing very shortly after leaving him.
I chose TylerRose.
At the time, I wasn’t looking ahead to when I might finally get my novels published. I couldn’t see that far into the future. I could barely see two months into the future.
Flash forward to 2015. I’ve been publishing my Gethis series for some six years now using the pseudonym TylerRose. And here I sit about to start publishing my Kingdom Key series.
Ohmigosh! The day has come! Here it is, feeling like a million years later. So what do I do?
The Gethis novels are tied in with the Kingdom Key series at several important places. I cannot publish one series in one name and the other in another name. I have no desire to change the name I’m publishing under. I’m too well-known as TylerRose. And I certainly am not going to change the character’s name. I won’t disrespect her.
Is it self-serving? I don’t think so. Just one of the quirks of being me.
TylerRose helped me survive a night of hell. She saved my life. I appreciate the hell outta that, and to change her name would be a disrespect to the character I’ve had living in my head for over thirty years.
She is not me and I am not her. She is not my alter ego, even if some of the eroticism is taken from my own personal experiences.
I have had an incredibly complex journey and now publish under the name TylerRose. And this series is about a girl named Tyler Rose Marie Brooks who is about to embark upon her own incredibly complex journey.
We have the same name but we are not the same person.
~ NOTICE ~
Any persons attempting to find
a motive or metaphor in this narrative
will be caned by a Singapore judiciary specialist.
And you will NOT like it.
Persons attempting to find a moral in it
will be flogged with a Russian knout.
And you will not like it!
Persons attempting to find an analogy
will be trussed up in half a mile of razor wire
and hanged by their toenails
in the nearest dungeon.
AND YOU WILL NOT LIKE IT!
By order of the Author, per Mark Twain.
In other words,
this is a
Work of Fiction!
Please enjoy it as such.
My Ultimate Appreciation and Respect for
The Ancients
My eternal gratitude to Chad Michael Simon.
Cousin, childhood playmate, graphic artist, creator of
“The Spider Who Couldn’t Hide” video (no, really)
You put together a spectacular cover from
my incoherent ramblings. You so totally get me.
We talked about covers almost 20 years ago.
It’s beyond fantastic to finally be here.
Thank you to Kelly
For your feedback and help proofreading.
Because of you, I didn’t gut this book
and take the easy way out.
Thank you Voluptuary
For your feedback, help proofreading
and with continuity.
Music figures very large in this series.
On this page of my website: http://taobytyler.com/index_files/Page462.htm
you’ll find a list of artists and their songs that have particular meaning
for the series, and links to the lyrics and where to purchase them.
Quick Note About Character Names
Several characters have two or three names.
Which they use depends on who they are interacting with.
Odin is Thomas
Thor is Vaughn
Hades is Nails and Kevin Neiland
Hermes is Dicer
If it’s a Greek, Norse, or other “god,”
then the human name is the alias.
Chapter One
Saturday, February 28, 1993
Tyler stared up to the crystal clear night sky, naked but for the pair of thin leather wrist cuffs with little locks jangling. Not seeing the thick blanket of pristine snow co
vering the world, not minding the end of February cold, she could feel planets pulling at her. There were civilizations up there. She knew it. She could feel them, almost see them. Earth, however, was so prehistoric in its space travel abilities that no one would ever get past the moon in her lifetime.
Still…that pull. If she could leap up and fly into space, she would. She’d dreamt of doing precisely that enough times to know what it would feel like.
Then she saw the moon. Waxing moon, crescent. It would be three quarters full next Friday. She could feel something was there as well, something more than the trash left behind by astronauts.
She felt the life all around her, looking down in time to see a mouse scurry across the pool patio and into a corner of the tool shed. The influences of all manner of energy danced before her eyes plain as day. If only she could explain it to others. She had tried now and then, but her friends looked at her like she was crazy. She’d stopped trying.
She heard the door behind her open, felt him — his large darkness — come through the door. Close behind, arms around hers, he kissed the side of her neck and held her. She looked down to his arm, seeing his dark aura. Much black, but he was not an evil man. Not by a longshot. Intense and serious, his idea of fun was very different from boys her age. She liked his ideas much better.
“You sang wonderfully tonight,” he said, voice unusually soft. “I could listen to you for a hundred years.”
She only smiled, his simple praise enough to make her happy. His opinion was the only one that mattered to her anymore.
“It’s freezing out here. Come back to bed,” he said in the stern tone that matched his energy and aura.
“Is it? I hadn’t noticed.”
His large, warm hands cupped her bare breasts as his chest pressed long and firm behind her. Thumbs strummed over her hard nipples as he surrounded her with warmth..
“Hmm, maybe not go inside. I’m liking this. What are you thinking?”
She did not answer immediately, enjoying his smooth hands being gentle for a change and considering her answer. She leaned backwards against him, surrendering to his embrace.
“That Earth is very small and insignificant.”
“Yes, it is.”
Fingers painfully gripping the undersides of her breasts and stealing her breath, he walked her backwards into his bedroom.
“Time to stop thinking and start screaming for me.”
Bent over his bed, wrist cuffs she already wore clipped together onto the length of rope attached to the wall, he spanked the daylights out of her until she was soft and malleable again. Loosing her wrists, tossing her up onto the bed, he thoroughly enjoyed her not so quiet submission to his forceful sex. She was the only woman on Earth with whom he could be so aggressive, her Sistarian DNA giving her a type of strength lacking in the native born Homo sapiens.
And she had no idea.
When he’d had his orgasm, he went into the bathroom to use a washcloth and clean up his pelvic region. No soap, just water, and he dried thoroughly as well. She wasn’t quite asleep when he returned to the bed. He came to rest on his side, facing her, and kissed her cheek.
“Scoot down. I want your mouth on me all night.”
Something he’d taught her two years ago, that she did not know the real purpose of and might not for centuries. She thought it was nothing more than something he enjoyed. He did, of course; but he also knew she would eventually use this method for feeding off the Crystal energy Tiberius possessed. Nails had trained her to do so without protest or aversion.
She slid down the bed, under the covers, and he watched with increasing anticipation. An intense pleasure it was as her warm, wet mouth closed around his flaccid penis and she sucked him in enough to latch on without arousing him. He adjusted the blanket to cover her to the shoulder, and bent his knees so his feet were back and out of the way. She bent her knees forward to fit close into his position as he’d taught her.
The most intimate thing he could do with her, and his own Chi revved up to cycle down through him, intuitively trying to feed her. If he’d had the crystal energy, he would be feeding her. The sensation thrilled him like nothing else, gripping his lower torso
He’d had to teach her not to actively suck and, fortunately, she did not grind her teeth in her sleep.
“That’s my babygirl,” he whispered as she sighed through her nose in her last moment of settling in.
Reaching his hand down to gently cup the side and back of her head in a silent reassurance that she was doing exactly what he wanted of her, he worked to quiet his internal chaos and be comfortable for the night.
For someone not quite eighteen, she was remarkably pliant. When he could drain her anger and make her relax, that was. He knew very well what she was feeling that she could not name; what she was seeing that she couldn’t describe. He knew exactly what was waiting for her when her mind opened up her first round of psionic abilities. Moments like this were a chrysalis of sorts, a silence before the rest of the galaxy knew she existed.
Away from him by as little as a quarter of a mile, he had almost no power to protect her. She knew nothing of the battles going on around her, just outside her sphere of perception, and he couldn’t tell her. Not yet. She had to figure it out on her own. All he could do was give her a reason and a safe place to stay. Safe place was easy. The Dautan did not dare enter into his presence. A reason was far harder.
They were all trying their damnedest to keep her in place. Mik’Hail, as the owner of the band she sang with. Hermes, who she knew as Dicer, was the President over in the Droghers clubhouse where the band often performed. Himself, Hades, who she knew as Nails, the President of the Iron Knaves motorcycle club and Kevin Neiland the lawyer. Together the three of them did their best to keep those opposing energies from pulling her away into the hands of the Dautan faction that wanted her dead. Or at least wanted to keep her ignorant and out of their way.
Existing was her crime. Being born. Only they knew it, the rest of the galaxy blissfully oblivious.
She fell asleep in the bubble he’d created around them. He smiled to himself while looking on her pale profile. Light brown lashes fanned over the top of her cheek, curves of nose, mouth and chin. So innocent in so many ways and yet so worldly in others, she was primed to become a force of nature with continued nurturing.
He let his love for her wash over her, an intense heat that eased her further. She subconsciously absorbed it to reinforce their private bond. Only he knew how deeply fused they were, a pre-emptive measure to keep the Dautan from too easily gaining control over her for themselves. They would have to break his bond first, one that allowed her to roam and think as she pleased, and that would not be an easy task. They would want to more tightly control her and his bond with her would stop that in a heartbeat. She would rebel against them instinctively. He might end up paying for this decision in the end, but for now it was best for her. He’d deal with the monster it created when he was forced to, not before.
He let go his concerns and fell asleep. Silent and dreamless as always, and was awakened Sunday morning by her loose mouth sliding over his cock to bring it to life. Looking down to her, he saw her looking up at him with those fathomless blue eyes. She stopped enough to smile around his hard cock.
“What do you want?” he asked.
She gave him another good suck and gripped with her hand to continue to stroke while taking her mouth from him.
“I’d like to ride you through a hundred orgasms.”
“How do you ask properly?” he prompted.
“Master, may I ride you like a demon on fire that needs a hundred orgasms to douse the flames?”
He guffawed a sudden laugh at her unexpected description. If she only knew!
“Yes, you may,” he said, and turned onto his back for her.
Sitting up against the pillows, he gestured her forward. She crawled up over him, slender thighs comfortably around his lean waist. Her cool hand gripped his cock again. Expect
ing the slick warmth of her vagina, he instead groaned with the tightness of her anus. She slowly worked him in until she was sitting on his pelvis. Her pale skin flushed a beautiful crimson from breasts to forehead as her aura exploded outward to fill the room.
She moved on him, nearly silent in her own rhythms, and he did nothing to spur her on or slow her down. How she needed was how she needed and he would not interfere. He watched her closely, very much enjoying this nymph stage of her sexuality. She was almost ready to burst out into her first sexual evolution. He had plenty of men in the biker club, all ready and eager to keep her satisfied. The trick would be keeping her here without keeping her captive.
She grunted and sighed her orgasms, breath catching and shoulders shuddering. Half an hour and she was still in high need but her legs were tiring. She didn’t want to stop, her need driving her on toward full muscle failure. Once she was nearly there, he told her to stop and be still.
Feet flat on the bed and knees up, he lifted his pelvis—and her—from the bed and straightened her legs on either side of himself. All her weight on the rod up her backside, she whimpered with the pressure of fullness. He brought one foot up and over his chest and lowered himself again. He then turned onto his left side, putting her onto her right on the bed. Holding her ankles in one hand, to keep her legs together, he reached that hand out its full length, bending her enough to present her buttocks.
Taking charge of the motion, he had her screaming her overload of intense pleasure to the wall for a good ten minutes before she quieted again in acceptance. Then it was nothing but good and her sounds turned to long moans.
He took his time reaching his own climax, taking her through an hour of her own orgasms and to the edge of no longer pleasurable. Before she would want it to stop, he brought up his ejaculation and spurted long jets deep into her anus. Pulled out, resting a moment, he left her be to breathe. Her legs were jelly, wouldn’t carry her to the toilet and back. Just how he wanted her.