Thursday, June 6, 2013


Today we'd like to share an excerpt (prologue and chapter one) from our alter-egos. 

Book Nookie
The Librarian's Guide To The Do-Me Decimal System


Vixen Bright and Zachary Zane



"Who is she?" The middle-aged woman carried a leather satchel.
"Kathryn Pines."
"She looks about ten."
"What's the story?"
"Car accident. She's in a coma."
"Why have you asked me to come?"
"We need to further involve Social Services because her parents were both killed."
"She's orphaned?"
"Appears so."
"What's the child's prognosis?"
"We suspect she will come out of the coma. She has serious head trauma with major facial scarring. We have no formal diagnosis on her back injuries."
"Time table?"
"In cases like this, the best scenario is three months before we can talk about her leaving."
"We shall provide counseling to help her transition in dealing with the loss of family. Does she have any next of kin?"
"None, the authorities were unable to locate any, the police interviewed her neighbors, but it seems she is truly an
orphan." Sadness washed the nurse's face.

Years later, after earning a scholarship to attend college, the school's library offered her a part-time job. After completing her undergraduate degree, she stayed and matriculated toward her Masters. Finally, she was accepted in the Doctorial program and remained learned but innocent when it came to the concrete use of social skills. So her modus operandi continued. She worked late, studied, hid in the library stacks, reading.



"I think tonight I shall toy with the fantasy of being a rich debutante, Clare, and my father, a baron, who had hired a virile stable boy." She read out loud a book’s inside blurb then looked at the salacious cover, "He's far less the boy, much more the stunning man."
"Thank you," rang a response.
Kathryn turned. "May I help you?"
"Might I ye?"
"Who are you?"
The handsome dark-haired man, a crescent scar filling his left cheek, wore a linen unbuttoned, sleeveless shirt. They displayed massive arms, while his stomach muscles rippled beneath bronzed skin. With canted head, he winked, "Don't ye know?"
The familiar twinges in her pussy encouraged her to touch. His handsome features and well-developed physique spontaneously spawned those twitches. "No."
He studied her as if devouring every stitch of clothing, chewing them off of her, leaving her vulnerable and naked. "Ye called me—stunning."
Recollection snapped her eyes, as she turned to the cover of the book in her hand, stared and flashed back to the man before her. His image was on the bodice ripper's cover. "You!"
"T'is I, milady. I am Keen. Might I help ye?"
"Is this a joke?" Though anger simmered, the thought anyone cared enough to pull a prank was also flattering.
"Keen, does not joke with a goddess such as ye."
"I'm being punked aren't I?"
"No, milady."
His pantaloons shifted. A tuff of dark hair just below his navel stole her attention. Its thickness hinted at a cock amassed in hair. Kathryn chased the fantasy away. "Well? Explain."
Keen flicked a wrist, a book fell from a shelf eight feet off of the floor and he caught it without acting as if he saw it. The man spun in a fanciful manner, winked, and placed it onto her lap. The back of his hand intentionally pushed downward onto her mound in the brazen act of a brash cad. Once she acknowledged his naughty toying, he retreated, waved his hand over the pages, they fanned, flowed fifty deep, and stopped. "Read." He gently stroked a single finger across her cheek.
She, for only a fleeting second, regretted chasing that hand, that hand which expressed interest in her pussy, the first which ever had. Could she grab it, pull it back? Was it far too slutty?
Her thoughts were broken by, "Read!"
She did aloud, "Most know not the true soul of the written word. Beyond its simple story-telling lives a deeper truth. Ideas are alive and need a vehicle. The pen floating upon imagination is just that." She paused. "Ok?"
He traced one finger from temple to mouth. "Read on." He smiled, his blue eyes infesting her.
Touch me again she pined. The alpha male dominated, quieting her verbal reaction, yet, igniting the craze of her fascination about feelings.
"Read on."
"Very few ever become a trusted confidante of the soul of the written word. But when they do, those very words grant a special gift." She looked up. "What?"
He held his hands out to his sides, palms up as if presenting.
The man knelt before her, kissed the knuckles of her hand, stared along her dress' edge, and then followed the trail of her legs to her white panties.
His gaze smoldered on her pussy, warming it, as she felt it exploring. She blushed knowing he could see a lot and pushed him away.
"Finish," he instructed.
She continued, "The energy of the word, offers a guide, a familiar, a cohort, a playpal, and a soul mate to more intimately trek the pages of the great tales."
He spun once more.
"K..k..k...?" she questioned, in an exaggerated query.
"I am Keen Edge."
"Yeah, right!"
"I am your gift."
"Happy birthday to me."
"I offer you a rare opportunity to experience stories in a grander way."
"How?" The idea of books pulled her further into him.
"Take my hand and we can jump into the pages." He reached for her, barely touching her breast.
"I'll pass."
"As you wish milady." His hand backtracked.
"I wish."
He turned away then turned back. "You wear white lace with elegance and grace. I would defend them as my colors."
Kathryn blushed. "Keen!"
"Enjoy my life as the sate to Clare. I do wish it was you there. Kathryn, I am always at your beckon."
"How do you know my name?"


We'd love to hear from anyone interested in what we do. Anyone who writes us at (Write - Blog Dawn - in subject line) and leaves an s-mail address, we will send you a gift and add you to any future mailings.

Angelica Hart and Zi

Vixen Bright and Zachary Zane


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