Eight darkly erotic and horrifically delicious stories guaranteed to give you shivers, in more ways than one!
Stories included: Silent Night, Mercy, The Velvet Choker, Pumpkin Eater, The Ride, Advent Calender, The Laundry Chute, The Gingerbread Man
Editorial Reviews:
From Danya, Night Owl Romance Reviews, 4.5/5 STARS!
"Selena Kitt has penned a fabulous collection of erotic horror short stories. Shivers consists of eight stories that rival Stephen King in dreadful anticipation while still containing steamy and seductive overtones. (A)ll the stories lend themselves to the reader quivering in horror and shivering in delight..."
From Stacy Link, Paranormal Reviews
"...a great job bringing these eight stories together into one book. Each will have you reading furiously to find out what is about to happen and just what it will hold for the characters. Each story has its own form of erotica or horror and some have a bit of both. Anyone that enjoys erotic horror will enjoy this collection of intense stories." |
God, she smells incredible! Whatever the hell perfume she was wearing was intoxicating, and I dipped my nose into the swell of her cleavage where it was stronger. "You smell great," I murmured against her neck. She giggled, and I winced. Note to self—don't make her giggle!
"Pheromones…" The feel of her breath in my ear made my cock jump.
"What?" I tilted my head to look at her.
"Never heard of pheromones? Just chemicals we give off…love scents. It's like an aphrodisiac. Careful, you could fall in love with me," she teased.
"You've got a love scent, all right," I agreed, kissing her, harder, digging for that tiny tongue again and finding it.
She moaned against my mouth, responding to my thumbs rubbing over her hard nipples. They were pale pink and puffy. She had a true blonde's coloring, and I judged that Miss Clairol only gave her natural hues a shine, although I wouldn't know that for sure until I had her panties down. Her hand went for my crotch, but I grabbed her wrist, twisting her arm behind her and kissing her toward my room. Whether it was the beer or the cold, my dick wasn't responding quite fully yet, and nothing killed things quicker than a girl who thought you couldn't get it up for her. No matter what you said, they made it all about them.
Her knees nearly buckled as I tongue-kissed her with both her hands behind her back, but she caught the shuffling backwards rhythm until I had her pressed against my bedroom door. I stopped there to enjoy the exposure of her breasts, the way her skirt was starting to ride up her thighs as she tried to press a knee up between my legs. Girls always forget about the testicles. I turned slightly, shifting so that my leg was pressed up towards the heat of her crotch, which is what she really wanted anyway, from the sound of her gasping as she rode it like one of the mechanical horses at the Toys R Us entrance, her skirt getting damper by the minute. Damn, this girl is hot!
I turned the doorknob, making sure I had her by the small of the back so we wouldn't spill onto the floor. We stumbled anyway, all the way to the bed, the height of the mattress forcing her to sit. She fumbled at my belt buckle in the dimness, and I pressed her away, unbuckling and starting to slip my belt out the loops.
"Mmmm, it smells good in here!"
I cocked my head, my belt hanging. I did smell something. It was weird how you got used to your own smells, and you never noticed it until someone else said something. "Vanilla!" She identified it—yep, that’s it all right. I wondered if Tyler's girlfriend had decided to force him into cookie-making or something this afternoon. The blonde's hand was tugging on my belt again, and I let her slip it the rest of the way out while I unsnapped and unzipped.
She leaned back on her elbows, watching me, her breasts flattening around the sides a little the way the larger ones do. She propped her stocking feet up on the bed—where the hell are her shoes?—and opened her thighs. In the light from the hallway, I could see the tops of her thigh-high stockings and, to my surprise, blonde fuzz. No panties in sight.
"You are a very bad girl." I smiled.
"They're in your jacket pocket," she purred, opening her thighs wider. "I took them off in the bathroom and thought, if you didn't take me home, at least I'd leave you a reminder." I realized I was still wearing my jacket. I reached in and felt dampness. Sure enough, there was a black pair of panties. I lifted them to my nose. She smelled incredible, strong, the way girls do when they still have pussy hair.
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