As you’ve been surely expecting, I’ve been feverishly working on my upcoming book, His Twisted Fantasy, under my new pen name, Ana C. Blacklace. It’s a dark billioniare romance (emphasis on DARK, so steer away if that’s not your cup of tea), with an over-the-top, obsessed hero who will stop at nothing to get the woman that he wants. Because I’m dying to share this book with you, and I can’t wait until I’m done writing it, here is a new excerpt. Please keep in mind this is a first draft, and it still needs some editing. Lemme know what you think in a comment. Warning, strong language ahead!
NOTE: This is NOT the first chapter. You can read the first chapter HERE, and the excerpts that I will keep posting as I write do not follow in order. This scene happens in chapter III, for example, some time after Adalia and Jax met. Enjoy! Especially if you need some inspiration for a Valentine’s Day full of spice, and over-the-top, stalkerish chasing that is only ever safe in fiction.
Have yourself a blast 🙂
Title: His Twisted Fantasy
Main characters: Adalia and Jax
The rain patters against my windshield, a pair of incoming headlights fogging my view of Adalia’s window. My leather gloves squeak against the wheel as I grip it harder. I wonder what goes through her mind as she sits with her friend at the kitchen table, her forehead resting in her hand, knowing she’s only got herself to blame for the girl having lost her internship at HQ.
She should have known better than to reject me.
While her room-mate speaks, Adalia shakes her head, pouring them both more wine from the bottle standing between them on the table. I promised her I’d find her motivation to do what she professed she’d never do, and there it is–the people she loves. Maybe she won’t fight for her own dreams, but she won’t put the dreams and livelihoods of those she loves in jeopardy. She’ll give herself to me, in exchange for my leaving them alone.
I keep my eyes trained on her face through the rainwater trickling down my windshield, congratulating myself for not having sent her the contract after the first time we met. Adalia Ross isn’t a woman to have for a one night stand. It’s gonna take more to quench my appetite for her.
Her face turns to the window, her expression ghostly. There’s no way she can see me sitting in an anonymous black car parked across the street, but maybe she can sense the beast watching her from the night. Her friend is still talking to her, gesticulating amply, but Adalia just stares lost out into the rain. She comes to her feet slowly, her hands going to the sides of the window. For a moment, I worry she might close the drapes. Instead, she leans against the window frame, peering outside while her room-mate keeps talking.
My cock stirs in my pants, and I have to grab the bastard with one hand, my leather glove creaking. My eyes flash into slits as I zoom in on those dreamy blue eyes, remembering their long, curved lashes. The harder I stare, the more I wonder if that’s what attracted me to her from the start. If it was her selflessness, her capacity for love and dedication, her self-sacrificing nature that affected me on a visceral level, even before she proved them to me. Ah, how good it will feel to corrupt her. To ruin her. To break her apart and then piece her back together into my own Frankenstein’s monster.
Making her completely mine.
The day I met her I was certain she’d thrown herself to her knees to grab my attention, to turn me on, to have a shot at personal contact with me. Now I know that wasn’t the case, but fuck, I wish it had been. A week later here I am, chasing a woman for the first time in my life, even if there won’t be any chocolates or flowers. I won’t be turning up in a limo at her curb, because I’m not a knight in shining armor. I’m a ruthless bastard that will ravish her.
My cock turns to steel in my pants as I imagine her finally bending to me. In less than twenty-four hours, I’ll have her on her knees. Soon, her pussy will be clenching around my cock while I drive it deeper inside of her than any man has ever been.
She stirs at the window, as if she sensed my thoughts. A second later, a shadow simmers against the orange light coming out of the hall as it pushes the door to enter her building. She reacted when she saw him from the window, so she must be expecting him. Tall and lean, he moves confidently, like he knows what he’s doing, but something about it seems overdone.
His style could probably fool men who hadn’t spent half their lives in prison, men who aren’t used to stalking people from a distance, and observing everything around them, watching for any element that could become a threat. But my observation skills and deadliness are what kept me alive all those years in prison. Being able to assess an opponent within the first seconds of seeing him was vital in the prison octagon, where I first made a name for myself among heaps of money–illegal fights, to the death. It was either me or the other guy. The way this one moves, he’s not even a wolf in a sheep’s clothing. He’s a hyena trying to fake the elegance of a dignified predator.
The leather gloves stretch over my knuckles, and I growl deep in my chest, wanting to bite his head off.
Especially when my hunch turns out to be spot on.
Mia Rogers stands up from the table only to return with the visitor. Adalia turns to greet him, and the bastard throws off his coat, putting his gym-trained arms around her. Next to his princely presence, I’m a boulder. My jaw clenches as I wonder if this is what she likes, if he is what she’s into. Neat hair, beard so well-tended I wonder why the fuck he grows one at all, considering beard stands for raw, beastly masculinity. For something straight out of the caves, which he obviously isn’t, and which I take pains to hide being by always sporting a cleanly shaven jaw.
Except now, because I haven’t shaved in days, focused on the one thing I’ve wanted in years–her.
I wonder how she’d react if I crushed him right in front of her, squeezing the pretense out of him. If I proved to her just how useless city rats like him are against the likes of me. If protection is what she’s looking for in his arms, she’s gonna find out soon enough what a lame excuse for a man he is.
I hitch out my phone, zoom in, and snap a picture of him. It’s good to have state-of-the-art technology at your fingertips at all times, the kind normal people don’t even imagine exists yet. After an investigation of a few minutes and a few firewall breach hacks, I have all the info I need. He’s Camden Murray, stock broker, well-known ladies’ man in New York, and Adalia’s ex who she supposedly broke up with. I hiss at my phone and put it away. Later, I’ll dig up the last vid on PornHub he watched, what time he took his last dump, and all the dick pics he sent to other women while dating Adalia. I’m gonna break his image in her eyes, as well as every bone in his body. But right now, I need to watch every move he makes around her.