Tuesday, June 1, 2010

Upcoming release: For Women Only 6-15-10

Originally scheduled for release today, For Women Only has been rescheduled to June 15th. Here is a sneak peek at an excerpt featuring the heroine. Ambassador Ruh is visiting her first ever male strip club.

Cover art by Anne Cain

For Women Only
Khyff is a master of pleasure with a tortured soul. Can she redeem him, or will he destroy her for trying?

When Kin Ambassador Mehfawni Ruh visits the capitol planet of the Tarthian Empire, she meets the human Khyff Antonello, a master of pleasure who satisfies her every craving for illicit and taboo sex. She expected a fling, but found love. Upon discovering her own people devastated his family, she longs to restore all they destroyed, but some tragedies can never be reversed. Her family demands she cast out the human, for if she keeps Khyff, she must deny her heritage and abdicate her future as ruler of her world. Mehfawni searches for an alternative, and stumbles upon Khyff’s darkest secret. Now, she must decide -- is his fragile trust the response of love and a healing heart -- or a ruse for revenge?

Tarth City, Top Tier District
The Chocolate Works
So this is the Conqueror’s idea of a party? Throbbing music pulsed and tickled deep in Mehfawni’s chest. Light tracked across the stage and into corners where males danced almost nude in cages.

A man cloaked from head to toe in chain mail strutted onto the stage, pumping both fists to the hard beat of the music. The female audience chanted his name in time. “Rheman. Rheman. Rheman.”

Mehfawni followed the other delegates to their table, dead center halfway to the front, and seated herself between Ambassadors Dreena Fasra and Myel Zhkarr.

The dancer turned away from the audience and leaned backward until the chain-mail hood slipped off his head and onto his shoulders. He turned his head to one side. He had horns. Rheman was a Tyran.

Unlike most Tyrans, whose horns curved upward and out like a bull’s, Rheman’s horns curled down around his ears, almost into a circle. He’d painted them gold, and the color flashed against the dark brown of his skin.

His metal cloak teased downward, off bulging shoulder muscles, down his smooth back, and halted at his waist. While women screamed and shouted, he flirted with the audience over his shoulder, seeking whether he should continue. The cheering crowd urged him to take it off. Dreena Fasra set two claws against her lips and whistled. Mehfawni flicked back her closest ear at the shrill noise.

The chain mail slipped farther, showing the tops of his buttocks, enough to reveal a thong made of metal links. The cloak jerked back up a bit, and Rheman darted a quick guilty look at the audience, biting into his lower lip like a child caught being naughty.

His bronzed body almost forcibly drew Mehfawni’s gaze.

The audience clapped hands in unison, chanting. Dreena laughed out loud. “Take it off, Rheman!”

A server set a napkin and a cocktail in front of her, and Mehfawni downed the drink in one gulp, never taking her gaze off the dancer.

Rheman straightened his arms, tilted back his shoulders, and let the metal-ringed cloak hit the floor.

He wore only the thong and a pair of boots. He bent forward at the waist, both hands clasping his ankles, exposing his long, firm legs and perfectly shaped ass, and unclasped the covers over his feet. He ripped them off.

She held her breath. His hooves were gold too.

His muscled body writhed to the pumping music, hips gyrating, and he pivoted toward her, hands clasped over his head. His rippling abs tightened with each movement.

Mehfawni fanned herself with the napkin. Dreena nudged her with an elbow, stuck both ears straight up, and twitched them twice. Fawni giggled.

Rheman wedged himself into the wall of hands reaching for him, brushing the rings he wore on each finger against credit bracelets.

Mehfawni twisted the bracelet on her left wrist and paid no attention when the server came by to replace her empty glass with a full one. He was human, but she could not quite bring herself to look him in the eyes.

The smell of humans and their perfumes assaulted her nose. Another scent, unfamiliar, wafted to her. She lifted her head and sniffed -- sweet and mild, whatever it was. Her mouth watered.

She purred. “Mmm.” She leaned toward Dreena. “What’s that smell?”

Dreena gave her a wise smile. “Chocolate.”

That’s what it smells like. She’d never tasted it before. Cocoa did not grow on Felidae, and her family shunned it as too human.

Dreena leaned toward Mehfawni and gestured her closer. “The next act” -- she yelled over the escalating racket -- “is my favorite.” The place erupted in cheers, applause, whistles, and shouts. “These guys are cousins, and the youngest is hotter than a firestorm. His name’s Rooshkah, and he’s mine.” She shrugged. “On nights I can afford him, anyway. Wait’ll you see this guy!” She stood and cheered.

“Ladies” -- announced a deep voice from the darkened stage -- “and all the rest of you wild animals out there” -- more screams punctuated the words -- “the Chocolate Works proudly presents Kin in Captivity!”

The pounding rhythm of Kin drums rose. No other sound in the world matched their rich bass. Back home, only married males played them in public. The day of his wedding, when her brother Dallon joined their father and other married males in the clan for the ritual performance, she’d wept with pride for him.

Here, fists pounded on tables in time with the sacred beat. As if the rumbling booms did not signal a call to the council fires of her family. Or call her to worship the creator, to join her clan in singing the ancient praises. Or were a thunder of joy to announce the happy birth of a child.

The other Kin delegates, representatives of her people, clapped their hands and laughed.

Mehfawni’s ears lay back.

The stage began to lighten, revealing two colossal-sized Kin males dressed in white leather studded with blue beads. They stood with their backs to the audience, a long, thick chain linking their slave collars. They faced each other and then drew apart, revealing a third Kin, this one shorter. Their chains also linked him to them, connecting the three in a loop. The two tallest pulled at their chains, bodies grinding to the thundering drums.

Unable to break the links alone, the two in front teamed up and snapped the chain between them. The third Kin fell to his knees, clutching and tugging at his slave collar, head tossing, unable to free himself.

Dreena mouthed Rooshkah and pointed to the golden-haired one in the middle.

Mehfawni nodded.

The two darker-haired males circled him, hips thrusting to the ponderous throb of raw sound. Each went down on one knee with the youngest cousin between them and, one at a time, wound his chains around their fists and freed him. Screams of delight rose in a crescendo of sound.

Female voices shouted. Whistles pierced Mehfawni’s eardrums. Fists hammered the tables.

Tawdry. Fists symbolized the Conqueror. Mehfawni leaned back, lips curling with a low growl. How appropriate.

The highly charged scent of female arousal filled the air.

Kin in Captivity teased the audience to a frenzy, the two oldest making no pretense of modesty. Rooshkah hung back, stripping with shy restraint. The audience cheered him on until he wore no more than skimpy tatters of fawn leather and his golden slave collar, the broken chain reaching his waist.

Still dancing to the drums, the cousins made their way through the audience. Lights played over them, outlining their muscles with shadows of blue and red. They stopped at each table to allow female mouths to gnaw at their chains. Caressed by adoring female hands and rewarded with generous gifts, they bent to provide their benefactors with kisses.

Mehfawni’s cheeks burned. Kin males openly exposing themselves before such a crowd! Of course, one had sex within the comforting circle of family, but to so blatantly display themselves among strangers…

To her dismay, the dancers reached their table and ground their hips seductively in front of Dreena. The two tall ones trapped Mehfawni in her seat between them. She put her head down and refused to lift it. They tried, but nothing could persuade her to look. Laughter echoed around her.

The cousins finally gave up and moved on to Myel Zhkarr, who instantly threw up her hands and joined them in dancing.

Rooshkah faced Dreena and placed his hands on the back of her chair as he leaned toward her. From where Mehfawni sat, his face showed. His eyes were closed tightly, lower lip bitten between his teeth. She had the sense she was intruding on a private moment, but could not take her eyes off his golden hair and ecstatic face.

He leaned in closer to Dreena. “You know I always save the last link for you.” He curled a hand into Dreena’s hair and brought her mouth closer to his throat. “It’s yours.” He opened his eyes, looking at Dreena with passion that matched the scent of his body. He didn’t lie. “Just like I am. Take it. Taste it. It’s yours.”

Dreena chewed off the single link of chain dangling from his slave collar.

Sticky smears of dark brown streaked Rooshkah’s body. Mehfawni could smell it now: chocolate. The women had been eating chains made of chocolate candy.


The Antonello Brothers Trilogy
Book 1 - At the Mercy of Her Pleasure

Book 2 - For Women Only
Book 3 - When I Breathe

For Women Only buy link: http://www.loose-id.com/For-Women-Only.aspx
ISBN: 978-1-60737-435-0

Genre: Erotic Science Fiction Romance, Multicultural, Interspecies, Action Adventure

Publisher's Note and Warning: This book is a substantially re-edited, revised edition previously released by another publisher, and contains explicit sexual content, graphic language, and situations that some readers may find objectionable: violence, reference to abuse, reference to male rape.

Author website: http://kayelleallen.com/  
Author email: kayelle @ kayelleallen .com
For Women Only © copyright 2010 Kayelle Allen


Savanna Kougar said...

Feline fabtastic excerpt! And congrats on your upcoming release.

Mary Quast said...

Hot! Awesome! Congrats on the release.