Nectar: DD Prince

by Prince, DD

  Mr. Death was instantly in her space. Those blackened irises were in front of her. His fangs were bared, his beautiful face marred with an ugliness she didn’t want to begin to try to decipher. His breathing was slow and shallow, as if he was asthmatic. Fog began to billow out of his mouth, as if they were in sub-zero temperatures.

  “Tristan,” she whispered, feeling her heart pound like thunder against her chest. She backed up against the bathroom door.

  His nose was in the crook of her neck. It was cold, like ice. He bit in and the sound of her throat piercing was sickeningly audible. It hurt but then it felt so good, too. She let out an “Ah.” Her eyes rolled back. But the feeling inside, it wasn’t Tristan’s bliss entering her veins. It also wasn’t monster Tristan. No spiders. No sludge. It was hollow. Bile rose in her throat and it tasted like rust.

  “Tristan, baby, are you in there? Please be in there. Don’t do this. We could find a happily ever after, couldn’t we? You could make me happy. You do make me happy. I wanna make you happy.”

  She felt a gush down below and he let go of her throat and sniffed the air and then dropped to his knees and reached for her hips.

  She spun around and then slid by him back into the closet, the cage. He rose and slowly followed. She reached toward the tranquilizer on the floor but before she got it he grabbed her hips with freezing cold hands, dropped to his knees, taking her pants and panties down roughly and then his nose was in between her legs. He jerked her down onto the rug, then she was pinned, her legs tangled in her clothes. She felt his tongue there, tasting, seeking. She stretched but couldn’t reach the gun.

  If I don’t fight, maybe he’ll take it and he’ll stop. Is it possible?

  She started to try to visualize her feelings and push them toward him from her mind. He let out a moan and his cold tongue was pushing hard on her clit and down toward her opening. She shuddered, pleasure spiking and her legs were like mush, wide open. How on earth could the demise of her do this? How could she begin to feel pleasure when she probably had seconds left to live?

  She lifted her upper back so she could see him. His hand flew up and pinned her to the floor by the throat. He was squeezing. She tried not to panic and struggle. It wasn’t easy to fight that reflex. His grip loosened enough to make breathing easier. She felt another gush of fluid down below. He was moaning.

  Emotion surged forward in her,

  “Tristan? I know you can’t control this. It’s okay,” she whispered, tears streaming down, and then his tongue started to really move and he added suction into the mix. Like a tidal wave a massive orgasm washed over her. It went on and on and on. And on. She thrashed and moaned and then his grip tightened on her throat again and it somehow made the sensations all the more intense. She was on the verge of losing consciousness.

  He let go.

  Her eyelids fluttered. She looked up. He was standing over her, towering and seeming like a giant. His chest was heaving. His fists were clenched at his sides. He reminded her of a gray, instead of green, Incredible Hulk. He had blood on his chin. He roared. Roared!

  Oh fuck…

  Kyla scampered backwards against the opened panic room door and looked up to see him lunging for her. She braced herself as he pulled her to standing by the underarms and pushed her against the door, making it snap shut. She was against that door and her feet weren’t touching the floor. It was about to be over, she could feel it, he’d drain her. She wanted to look at him one more time and hoped that somehow inside there the real Tristan, the guy who’d wanted to open his own restaurant, the guy who sang beautifully, and whose smile could light up the room, whose touch lit up her body, who’d swam through the molten lava moat to break down her walls would somehow see her. His gaze was on her throat and he opened his mouth and started to move toward it.

  She stared hard into those black depths, trying to will them to be blue, and prepared to try to win the ultimate stare down,

  “Tristan, I… love you,” Kyla whispered, feeling her feelings for him well up inside of her.

  His gaze came back to look at her eyes, her throat momentarily forgotten. His eyes were starting to change. They were stormy gray, on the verge of turning blue again. She touched his cheek. It wasn’t cold or warm, it was clammy. A bead of sweat formed on his forehead. He stood still, his eyelashes fluttering.

  Color was returning to his face and his grimace was loosening. He wasn’t totally Tristan yet but he looked like he could be on his way. A glimmer of hope burst forward in her chest. She gasped as he collapsed and because he still had a hold of her, she fell with him.

  He was out cold.

  Did I break through or did the tranquilizer finally kick in? What do I do what do I do what do I do?

  Should she run back into the panic room? It was still disengaged so the door should be unlocked. She checked it. It was unlocked.

  Should she wait in there until he woke up to see if he was past it or if it’d happen all over again?

  What? What?

  She caught sight of Sam. What would happen when Sam woke up? Would he attack her, too? She wouldn’t be able to push nice thoughts into his head and hope it’d bring the colour back to his face. If the nice thoughts even worked. It really could’ve just been the tranquilizer.

  She yanked her pants back up, grabbed the tranquilizer gun from the floor and squeezed the trigger, shooting another small dart into Sam’s leg. Then she pointed it at Tristan. Would another dart keep him down longer or would it be lethal? Sam had shot him three times already.

  She stared at him, pointing the gun, and trembling all over. He just looked like he was sleeping. Sleeping with blood all over his chin on the floor inside a metal cage in a mess of blood all over the rug. Now that he was down she should have a bit of time --- she hoped, before he woke up. She sobbed, looking at his gorgeous face and made her decision. She touched her lips to his forehead. He was warm.

  “I’m sorry but I have to go,” she whispered softly and touched the cleft on his chin with her fingertips.

  She dropped the gun, ran down the stairs, picked up his keys from the table by the door and grabbed her running shoes from near the doorway. She ran out the door carrying them, and put them on while waiting for the elevator, which seemed like it took a dog’s age to arrive.

  Three and a half minutes later she was in the back seat of Tristan’s SUV, looking over into the trunk and pulling the zipper open on a black and grey Puma gym bag. In that duffle bag were two big stacks of cash wrapped with elastic bands. One stack was Canadian money and the other was American. There was also a bundle of travellers’ cheques, two changes of clothes for each of them, and both of their passports as well as Kyla’s purse. Anguish sliced through her heart and her veins as she got into the driver’s seat, turned the ignition, and decided to head for the airport.

  To be continued…

  What? A cliffhanger?

  Don’t you JUST. HATE. THAT?

  ;)

  Never fear, the sequel is in progress. And of course you know Tristan and Kyla will see one another again…

  I’ve already started to write it and am so excited for you to see where this story goes!

  Like http://facebook.com/ddprincebooks to be notified when it goes live.

  Thank you!!

  Thanks sincerely to those who’ve read The Dominator and given me the strength to continue to move forward with my fiction-writing. The feedback I got for my ‘baby’ gave me more joy than you can imagine! It was life-changing for me.

  Thanks to those who offered to quickly read and provide feedback before Nectar went live (Nicola, Pauline, Rachel, Tiffany, Elaine, Tonya, Mariah).

  A few days before I released it I gave copies out to a few of my Facebook followers who volunteered to read and get me feedback quickly. I originally planned to hold back on the release of this story until book #2 was almost ready but I was reminded of how much ‘fun’ a cliffhanger can be. And I was pleaded with so here we are :)

  When the story of
Nectar came to me I was thinking about vampires and periods and wondering “what if”. I did some research and found some interesting lore around menstruation and some of that will make its way into book #2 as we delve deeper into the mystery behind their connection and the intentions of those around Tristan and Kyla. (Yes, that was a hint…)

  Thank you to my husband and my 2 boys who are my biggest supporters. And to my Julie…they say friends are the family you’ve chosen for yourself and I am so blessed to have family that I choose to be my BFF.

  Ciao for now :)

  Read on for a sample of The Dominator.

  Also by DD Prince:

  The Dominator: A dark mafia romance. The Dominator is a standalone 551 page book (with spin-off books in progress) with no cliff-hanger.

  Sample enclosed on the following pages.

  On the writing schedule so far:

  Ambrosia, Nectar Series, Book II.

  Truth or Dare (The Dominator II)

  Essence, Nectar Series, Book III.

  Fete (The Dominator III)

  Black & Blue (Tristan’s POV) A Nectar Novella: to be read after Essence.

  About Me:

  I started a lifelong writing journey when, as a little girl, I started to write stories down. I wanted to create an alternate reality to escape to and I escaped there often with short stories and a lot of unfinished longer stories. I dreamt of being a novelist when I grew up. When I hit my teens I dreamt of living somewhere picturesque and inspirational and dreamt of sending my stories in to my publisher by fax machine.

  I thought I’d have a fistful of rejection letters before finding a publisher. Little did I know that I’d be fortunate enough to live in a world where you could get your writing voice heard via self-publishing.

  As I grew up I always loved to write but got sucked into the corporate rat race from age 19-31. I was done wrong by the company I gave a decade to because they cared more about numbers than people. I got pregnant for the second time and while on maternity leave found myself looking for a way to earn money from home so I didn’t have to put my second child in a daycare system that hadn’t done so hot with my first. I started freelance writing and spent the next 8+ years developing an online writing and internet marketing company.

  After 8+ years of churning out web copy I finally found the words within me to go back to my roots --- fiction. I finally self-published The Dominator, a dark romance I started to write when I was 15 years old. I don’t have the original handwritten copy but the story and the characters have been brewing in my brain for years. It churned around from paper to screen, to paper, to screen again repeatedly over a period of 27 years.

  My dream is to continue to do both: write for book lovers as well as continue to freelance until the day comes when I have enough books out there that I can focus 100% on my fiction. I feel very blessed to be able to put food on the table by putting words on a page (or screen) and even more blessed to be able to do it in a way that helps others escape to a place that’s fun, dark and sensual, and outside of their norm for a little while.

  If you enjoy this book I hope you’ll let me know and /or recommend it. Independent authors rely heavily on their fan base to help them succeed at fiction-writing and I’m developing an online community at my Facebook page and hope my stories are good enough to result in making some new friends who might be interested in talking about my books with me and others and who might also be interested in hearing about upcoming books.

  If you’re interested in talking about Nectar and about finding out about other books by me, I’d love to connect with you through Facebook, Twitter, or Goodreads.

  This book is dedicated to the ones I love who have encouraged me to express myself through words.

  Find me on social media:

  http://www.facebook.com/ddprincebooks

  http://twitter.com/ddprincebooks

  http://ddprincebooks.tumblr.com (Not safe for work! Smut Alert!!)

  https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/13177248.DD_Prince

  Thanks!

  DD Prince

  Sample of The Dominator:

  A dark romance with dubious and non-consensual sex.

  This is a story about Tia and Tommy, a couple thrown together through an arranged marriage. She’s young, naïve, and wants to believe in love and family despite growing up in foster care. He’s a broody and controlling alpha male who stands to inherit a business with extensive ties to organized crime. He doesn’t have any use for women beyond having them sate his depraved carnal desires until the two are matched by their fathers, two men with secrets.

  Tia

  In a few weeks it’ll be my nineteenth birthday. Some say it should be my ninetieth as I’m what they call an old soul. A few weeks after my birthday I’ll be striking out on my own. Well, sort of. I’ll be transitioning out of the foster care system and into my first apartment.

  My foster parents, Rose and Cal, who have been wonderful to me for the past 5 and a half years have arranged for me to rent the apartment above the garage at Rose’s parents’ home. So it’ll be my place but I’ll still be close to people who are like family; the only family I’ve had for a very long time.

  Because I’ve been a ward of the court for the past few years, the “system” will supplement my income through college and pay for tuition, too. The foster grandparents’ home would be the perfect blend of being on my own and having someone around in case I need help.

  Nona and Nonno Caruso have been like I’d expect real grandparents would be to me and the half a dozen girls that live with Rose and Cal Crenshaw at the moment. I’ll be the 5th girl to move into the garage apartment; the family has been fostering for years and they’ve helped over 100 teen girls have a home and a stable family for at least a little while.

  I could’ve opted to move out and finish my victory lap of high school from my own place on my 18th birthday but they invited me to stay and being an only child who embraced this busy, hectic, and crazy house full of laughter and love and great food, I was happy they invited me to stay the extra year.

  I’ve been in care since I was 9 and was moved around quite a bit before finding home here with the Crenshaws. My Mom committed suicide and that led to my already troubled father falling completely off the rails, landing me into the foster care system.

  His partying and gambling got progressively worse and he’d always had trouble holding a job which was amplified without my Mom around. My Dad tried to move me in with his sister, my Aunt Carol, one night after he got beat up pretty bad right in front of me by loan sharks, but she’d said Not a chance. She actually said that right in front of me. Shame on her. And shame on Dad for asking her in front of me.

  Not only did she refuse but she then called social services after coming to the apartment to argue with him because of seeing the way Dad and I were living. They took custody of me so that he could get his life together but he never actually did manage to do that for long enough to get me back. I was better off in care anyway. I thrived in it, especially once I got to the Crenshaw home.

  Dad seemed like he wanted to try a few times --- he’d go long periods of time without seeing me and then he’d turn up for a visit, tell me he was doing better, then he’d sometimes even do a monthly visit two months in a row but inevitably over the past 9+ years, the more common pattern was for him to get my hopes up and then let me down and disappear for many months at a time. I stopped having expectations of him a long time ago. Becoming a ward of the court made it simpler. They stopped trying to make him try.

  I’ve been through a few different foster homes but Rose and Cal’s has been, by far, the most nurturing of all. I moved here when I was 13 and not only do they go out of their way to make their home a real home but whatever isn’t provided that me or the other girls need through the “system” they take out of their own pockets. Three years ago they bought all us girls bicycles out of their own pockets for Christmas. The year after we got to go to Disney World together, on their dime. They’r
e amazing people and they’ve helped so many girls get their lives together. I hope to repay them someday.

  Rose, a sweet round woman with a heart of gold, tells me all the payment she wants is my happiness and success. And for me to continue to be a part of their family. Come for Christmas, come for special dinners on my birthday whenever I don’t have other plans, have them at my wedding someday, think of them as my family. I’ve been so lucky with them.

  Cal is an architect and Rose is a homemaker. They have one son and one daughter. Their son is autistic and one of my favorite people in the world. Their daughter Ruby is amazing too, with all the foster girls and with her little brother. Ruby has become my closest friend, like a sister, really. She’s a year younger than me otherwise we’d just get a place together.

  I’m lucky to be moving to the Carusos’. It’s a cute bachelorette apartment above the garage in a great neighborhood and the grandparents go to Florida for the winter so a few months after I arrive, I’ll have the place totally to myself. Ruby says she’ll stay over on the weekends.

  I’m starting in school in the fall for social work so I can make a difference in the lives of other kids who might otherwise fall between the cracks. So many kids do and many blame the system. I’ve had a great social worker all along who has always cared about my safety and happiness. I aim to follow in her footsteps and strive to do the same for other kids.

  I wouldn’t say I’m a model student or model foster child. I’ve gotten caught sneaking out to go to parties. I’ve skipped school a few times. I’ve gotten drunk and high and I’m not a virgin. But I’m not a slut and I’m not a bad person. I know what I want from life and I’m grateful for the blessings I have.

  I miss my Mom. I still don’t know why she killed herself. I wouldn’t say she was a happy person, and maybe her unhappiness ran deeper than I knew. I also don’t know why my Dad couldn’t seem to pull his life together. Even though he was never together before she died, he was really really messed up afterwards.