Monday, May 20, 2013

Daemonique volume IV teaser

Today I thought I'd share a little something I'm getting back into working on, as it makes a point of why serialised volumes works for everyone without too gravely impeding continuity of the story when you come in half way. It's a unique sort of thing to be able to do, doesn't always work in other media formats like TV series, but erotica is a different sort of sexy beast to deal with. Part of why it works better, like I talked about in Deity of the Desert below this is perhaps the kinks and content don't appeal to everyone throughout the series, so the option to dip in here and there is great for them.

For those that are okay with all the content and want the progressive story along with it, that's there too. With three volumes of an elf's struggle and fall from grace into the depths of darkest depravity, there's a decent amount of backstory to reference now and it's something I wanted to make a concerted effort about for sake of anyone just joining in this fourth volume. While doing so, I tried to keep it tied in to the forward flow of emotion and scene setting, so it doesn't just look like some recap advert. It's taken up a little over 1k words on its own merit already, and I'm generally happy with how it's turning out. As much as recap, I want to really reaffirm and capture the personal and racial reasoning behind Sylenna's rise and fall. The world above and beyond is not so kind to her people.

This is pre-edit and proofing so forgive me if the form and shine is a little off, but felt like I wanted to share this while I work rather than post-production. As much for anticipation of the next volume as grabbing new interest for volumes 1-3.

You can find all previous posts regarding Daemonique with the Daemonique series tag for the blog, including where to find each publication in all the usual stores. Volume 1 and 3 (but not 2) are ADULT filtered on Amazon because they had Ménage in the title, so they're a little harder to find. That's made sales drop off and me wonder if I should devote time to the series, but really the only way to get visibility back in there is to release more and make a point of the filter. Daemonique has essentially been my flagship title and I've no intention to let it drop off. So here we are, with the reminder of a fall from grace into the depths of demonic temptation and lust.

Opening excerpt follows the page break:
*  *  *  *

Nothing made any sense, and nothing felt at all real. In the darkest nest, deep under the ground and away from the light of what was good and pure, a demonic host bided its time in captivity. The halls seemed endless, for the prison dug into the ground spanned most of the remote island it was built into. Everyone knew that, and that was not the problem.

The problem was that Sylenna Lightstride – an almost frail seeming little elf, a sun-haired woman with sharp ears and bright blue eyes – did not belong down here. She belonged on the surface, fighting their kind back to their prisons. That was where she had begun, and where she would have liked to have remained, but Warden Sylenna Lightstride had vanished, presumed dead till proven otherwise.

It was unlikely the others would search for an elf very hard, as her kind were frowned upon outside the island as untrustworthy tricksters, cutthroats and eldritch magic users. The bond between every Warden was stronger than blood, but it was still easier to assume another forsaken than comb the island for sign of them and risk capture themselves. There simply wasn’t the manpower.

“You’ve been abandoned to your fate.” A voice whispered to her from beyond the darkness, and it took Sylenna’s attention fully. She could not speak, see, nor move, but she could listen. The voice held power, strength and things she had forgotten or lost. Dignity and pride.

“All alone, all but for those around you now. What gifts and blessings they’ve bestowed upon you, what fullness of life.” It whispered to her very soul, if she could still claim to own such a thing, and her body twitched in memory. She had been bent by that demonic host, ravaged and used for their most sordid pleasures with only the slightest care to keep her alive till seemingly every last one had taken its turn.
Just when Sylenna had thought she’d experienced the worst they had to offer; not one, and not a host, but two had taken her at the same time. Dark magic had revived her from the edge of unconsciousness and sharpened her broken mind so she might appreciate her freefall from grace. What that made of her with now, she had no idea. Perhaps the whispering voice full of power and purpose knew. Perhaps it would give her meaning.
“So ashamed, weren’t you? Ashamed of falling to lust, to being seen as a lesser race by those you desired. Well, now you’re free, little one. Free.” It told her, so assured as to declare her freedom. Sylenna twitched again. Her muscles were starting to hurt, and she could feel something in her throat. It felt as if she should want to sick up, but her throat was too taught to allow it, too flexed and full of something that had the force to push back at her constrictions.

Well, it didn’t hurt, and somehow it almost felt good to her. How could something in her throat feel good? A flash of memory rushed before her blinded eyes. Being impaled on a demonic shaft so deep down her throat that she hadn’t been able to move her head and even hung in the air, impaled on it. That should have repulsed her. Nothing made any sense, but she knew that memory was real. She knew as surely as the lacing of fire starting to tingle in her contorted limbs.

All of it had happened, but now? Now she was free?

Blind, mute and unable to move didn’t feel very free to Sylenna. While she couldn’t see – for whatever it was wrapped around her head like an eyeless mask – she could feel her feet were behind the tips of her long ears quite clearly. Her arms also hugged her thighs, meaning they were folded up at the waist. The image that sprung to mind left her so immediately exposed and shown off enough to make her flinch and clench her thighs. The milk-white little bud of flesh between her thighs only twitched slightly. There would be no hiding it.

“You have nothing left to hide. Nothing left to fear. You are mine, now.” The voice whispered again, such a simple thing, but the words sunk into and vibrated off something within Sylenna. They reverberated within her, shook and soothed her. No one had ever laid claim to her, never calmed and given her purpose like that before. She had bowed to the Church in faith and hope of redemption, true, but they had only accepted her begrudgingly.

Sylenna had let the feeling pass, slip into the back of her mind, for they gave her purpose and reason enough to focus ahead. All that was shattered now, laid bare, lost, abandoned. In its place; something so much more. She wanted to know who or what was speaking to her in such a way. She wanted to understand, to reach out and embrace it, but her hands were tied at the small of her back.

Wiggling and reaching, Sylenna could feel the soft curve of her rear in front and the steely grid work of a wall behind her. Hung up on it, then, like something on display. Somehow, the image filled her with no shame. Memories of things done to her returned. Of course, why should this shame her when she had been driven to such extremes before that crowd? Surely, to be before this voice, this presence of power bared naked was a blessing and privilege.

Sylenna’s upturned thighs suddenly stung with warmth. Something was touching her, and it made her quiver in anxious fear, as much as her body was capable of movement in the humiliating and liberating posture she had. Sharp nails traced across her skin, the stuff of nightmares that could as quickly rend the life from her. Was she afraid the voice intended to end her?

The thing in her throat wrenched a guttural whimper from her as she tried to focus on anything but that. Sylenna wanted to belong, to have purpose and life, to be anything but destroyed and forgotten. Sylenna recalled the last time she had hurt this way, it had not been so long ago. She had wrestled free of a succubus’ trap and signalled the threat. She had left to fight them, but her chest hurt. Her neck hurt. Her head hurt, and her heart! It felt as if she was the one whom had been stabbed instead of the demoness.

She had felt as though she were heartbroken and fleeing the men that had rejected her to cry alone, forgotten. It made no sense, but she hadn’t been able to quash the feeling. She hadn’t wanted to be near them, those who saw her in such a way. Abandoned.

Another sharp gasp of a sob took her, muffled and strangled by the leeching creature content to plug and strain her throat. The darkest reaches of her mind had spilled out, overtaken and consumed her with the truths of the world that simply did not care for her. Even still, she did not wish to be destroyed and lost. The voice gave her feeling of purpose.

“Hush, it’s alright now, little one. None will harm this heart of yours again. You have my promise.” The voice whispered, a gentle, so soft and tender hand stroking and cupping her voluptuous breast. It made flames of heat and passion burst within her immediately. That the being behind those words – the one giving her promise of salvation – was a powerful demoness, the owner of those sharp claws that prickled her skin and sent chills up her spine did not come into reasoning. Sylenna no longer cared.

The little elf’s back bowed off the wall, forcing another weak mewl from her throat as she pushed into the hand touching her breast. Xianesh – towering Avez’teria demoness, the cloven hoofed Underwarden smiled with plush black lips and blacker eyes that stared down the wall-bound elf. One so strong, so talented had fallen fully into Xianesh’s grasp. Good.


  1. I am hooked! New to your writing and now a fan. Great teaser.

    1. Oh awesome, thanks! I've started doing a 1k'ish excerpt when I release but this was a bit different, glad you like it!