Love Out Of Lust Series

Friday, July 20, 2012

Charlene Keel Guest Blogs for The AfterDark World

I was intrigued by this indie-author who can really make an astonishing appearance. Her name is Charlene Keel, and I was immediately intrigued at her excerpt from "FourPlay Girls"; a well released book. Now I knew very little about her then, until I purchased the her book and checked out her blog, I realized Ms. Keel is a woman with a lot of belts around her waist. She is an editor, a journalist, on top an author, and a screenwriter. And to add to it, she had an interesting start on how she got somewhere.

When she came to me to be a guest blog on The AfterDark World, I was happy to have her on here and I'm by far honored to have her guest blog, because I want you to see for yourself what a very talented writer she is.


EXCERPT TO FOURPLAY GIRLS:

Brenda loved power and she had everything she’d ever wanted—the condo, the car and the luxurious lifestyle that went with success. She had it all—except a man.
Not that she wanted one around all the time, distracting her from her destiny with his need, and she had decided she would never again waste time on a relationship.
Identifying a need in the marketplace had always been her forte and when she realized that elaborate fantasies and frequent self-indulgence weren’t enough for her, she decided to advertise:

Busy Female Executive Seeks Valet for household management. Keep track of diet, wardrobe and calendar; act as escort to society functions. Must be intelligent, stylish and competent. Regular, generous bonuses for special services. Apply with letter and photo.

She placed it in a weekly newspaper popular with actors and musicians. The next day, her email was full of responses. By Sunday evening, she had narrowed respondents down to three possibilities.
Kevin was big, blond and Ivy League. A struggling actor, he had scribbled at the bottom of his resume, “Satisfaction guaranteed!”
Philippe, the dancer, was muscular but slender, dark, smoldering and intense.
The third one, a musician, had rugged features and the hard, haunted edge of a brilliantly talented man who was going nowhere fast. His letter was brief and gut-level honest.
“I’m just looking for a gig, lady,” he wrote. “I’m almost too old to be a rock and roller and it’s almost too late for me to be anything else. I know what you want and I can supply it. Let’s negotiate.”
He sounded strong. Capable. And dangerous. She would save him for last.
**
Neither of them spoke at first. He was wearing tight, faded jeans, biker boots, blue work shirt and a denim jacket. His sandy brown hair hung mid-way down his back. There was a day’s stubble of beard on his face, and he smelled clean and pure, like fresh limes squeezed over ice.
His eyes were full of passion, and the pain of his own unrecognized genius, of anger and hope—and a little of madness.
“Come in,” she said at last.
He nodded. “Nice place,” he said as he walked past her.
“Thanks. Would you like something to drink?”
“You have any beer?”
“Domestic or imported?”
“Whatever’s the most expensive,” he said and laughed at her surprise. “Let’s not kid each other. I know what you want. If I’m going to sell my soul, it’s got to be on my terms.”
“Your soul is the one thing I’m not interested in,” she replied, a delicious warmth sweeping over her as she wondered what his terms would be. “I’ll get your beer.”
When she returned, she saw that he’d taken off his boots and was sitting on the sofa, leaning back, his feet propped on the hassock. His socks were two different colors. “Is that intentional?” she asked. “Or are you color blind?”
“Lady, everything I do is intentional.”
“My name is Brenda,” she said, desperate to hear his rich, velvet and sandpaper voice whisper it in her ear.
“Okay, Brenda,” he complied. “Come closer—unless you don’t like what you see.”
It was a dare, and she took it.
He sat up, his eyes traveling from her face downward, his gaze traveling over her body. Slowly he reached out and untied the sash of her silk pajamas.
“Why don’t you take that off?” he asked.
“Why don’t you?” she countered.
With one swift movement, he ripped the garment from her body. She wore nothing underneath and her nipples went rigid as she heard the fabric ripping. Its soft folds slid over her curves and pooled around her feet. He sat back and pulled her on top of him so she was straddling his lap.
“You know that you’re beautiful,” he observed. “So why do you have to pay for it?”
“I don’t have to pay for it,” she whispered. “I want to pay for it. I don’t have time for any kind of emotional involvement or to worry about pleasing a man.”
“But you want a man to please you?”
“Yes.”
“Well, let’s see what we can do.” He swung them both around so that he was lying down and she was straddling his chest, her nether lips parted and waiting near his face. With both hands, he reached up and caressed her breasts, cupping them and stroking them gently. He toyed with her nipples for a few moments, and then he slid his hands down to her buttocks and pulled her closer. Sweetly, slowly, he kissed her downy soft mound, his tongue probing her until he found his target.


Not only does she have one, but she has several more in different genres of romance and erotic romance, but most of all she is one talented writer. So please check out her books at Amazon.com - especially
FourPlay Girls

Here are her other books to check out by Charlene Keel, which can be found through Amazon Kindle and Books.

Just click on search link of Charlene Keel



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