Kryssie Fortune grew up climbing trees and playing with imaginary dragons. She still loves dragons, and if she can sneak one into her books she will. Her pet hates are unhappy endings and books that end on a cliff-hanger.
Kryssie's books are hot and explicit but the plot always comes before the sex. Since she writes erotic romance, she guarantees a happy ending.
Blurb for Claimed as Theirs
When
she is captured and thrown into a cage filled with ravenous vampires, Gwen
assumes she will be devoured. But among the horde is a huge, terrifyingly
powerful berserker who has other plans for her. She will belong not only to
him, but to all of the vampires of his triad, and her beautiful body will be
theirs to use and enjoy as thoroughly and shamefully as they please.
Gwen
soon learns that her new masters will demand obedience from their little human,
and it isn’t long before her defiance has earned her a painful, humiliating
spanking. But even with tears still running down her blushing cheeks, her
helpless arousal cannot be denied, and as she is claimed and ravaged again and
again her pleas for mercy are soon lost amid her cries of pleasure.
Publisher’s Note: Claimed as Theirs is a stand-alone novel set in the
same world as Taken as Theirs. It includes spankings and rough, intense sexual
scenes. If such material offends you, please don’t buy this book.
Excerpt for Claimed as Theirs
Naked, one arm twisted behind her back, Gwen stumbled down the spiral
stairs. The stench of stale urine and filth stole her breath. The cacophony of
hisses echoed toward them, chilling her soul. Red eyes peered through the
darkness. Focused. Hungry. Inhuman. Fixed on her.
A huge natural cavern spread before her, colder than the North Pole.
Iron bars stretched across its narrowest point, each thicker than a
bodybuilder’s thigh. Mold crept from algae-covered puddles and stained the rock
walls.
One glance at the red-eyed, skeletal mob penned inside and her knees
buckled. Goosebumps erupted over her naked body and her stomach churned.
Pressed against their cage, blood-starved vampires waited, fangs bared as they
howled for fresh meat—for her.
Darkness blocked her vision until only the smell of neglect and dirt
remained. Bile rose in her throat. Her muscles trembled like half-set Jell-O,
and she struggled to breathe. If her captors tossed her in with those monsters,
she’d be toast. Well… vampire catnip. Whatever, she’d end up dead.
The fat warder’s breath came straight from a pigsty. His
celery-stalk–thin friend sported enormous boils on his cheeks and hands. Don’t
these creeps understand personal hygiene?
The way Fatso groped her exposed breasts made her flesh creep. Until
today she’d delighted in her Marilyn Monroe curves, but around this pervert,
she felt dirty and ashamed. When the boil-covered guard unlocked the entrance,
hungry blood-drinkers surged forward.
The other guards approached the cage, nightsticks swinging. The prisoners
howled, wrapped their arms around their heads, and dropped to the floor.
Weakened by their hunger, they were no match for well-fed soldiers. Wary now,
they backed off and formed a semicircle, penning her in the entrance.
Watching.
Waiting.
Drooling.
For her.
Fatso released her arm and whacked her between her shoulder blades. Her
breasts bounced as she stumbled farther into the dark cavern. Behind her, the
door shut with a clang. The sound of the oversized key turning in the lock
sounded her death knell.
She slammed one hand over her bare cunny and wrapped her other arm
across her chest. Darkness choked her and terror froze her bones. As her eyes
adjusted to blackness, a mass of ragtag creatures shuffled toward her. Their
fangs gleamed through the cavern’s endless night.
When her spine pressed against the bars, they felt like icicles branding
her flesh. Worse, her generous curves stopped her squeezing between them. Her
pulse hammered three hundred beats a minute.
Palms clammy, she batted away the filthy hands that clawed at her naked
body. Not that she had a hope in hell of coming out of this alive. “I’m a
trained killer. Come near me and die.”
The feral vampires parted like the Red Sea before Moses. For one brief,
beautiful moment, she thought her bluff scared them. No such luck.
A giant of a man strode toward her, his muscles bulging beneath his
black leather jerkin. Shaven-headed, with a goatee beard and neat moustache, he
could have passed for a member of an old-style biker gang. His dominant swagger
and bulk made her pulse pound in a mix of bone-deep attraction and
stomach-churning fear. Again she tried to cover her nakedness with her hands.
This gorgeous man-mountain’s eyes glowed with smoky red-gray
lights—burning coals that illuminated the darkness. He dominated the other
vampires by sheer force of will. “Disperse. Now.”
The mob dropped their chins and edged away.
His wide-legged, chin-high stance proclaimed him the biggest, baddest
thing in there. To her, he seemed like sunshine and strength, a savior come to
rescue her—unless he considered her his next meal.
With his pointed fangs and red-eyed gaze, he should terrify her.
Instead, her tongue crept over her lips, and her nipples pearled as she took a
step toward him. Then her common sense kicked in. He was a vampire—a
natural-born killer who’d drink her dry.
His arm shot out, yanking her against him. The contact made her cunny
ache for more. Determined to escape him, she thrust her knee toward his balls.
Lightning fast, he stepped sideways, but his grip on her wrists tightened.
With a sexy growl, he hoisted her over his shoulder. “No dirty tricks,
cupcake.”
God, his voice. Rich with bass
notes, it reverberated through her bones. Everything about him, except his
incisors, sent wicked desire blazing through her. But cupcake? She’d show him
cupcake.
An amused laugh rumbled around his chest as she pounded her fists on his
spine. He landed a single hard slap on her bare bottom. She squealed at the
unexpected pain. Her cunny clenched, but hung like a slab of meat over the
giant’s shoulder, she felt powerless and vulnerable.
His oversized hand stroked her naked behind before he slapped it again.
The sound echoed around the cavern. Squealing, she beat on his back. Another
inmate drooled as he crept closer. “Need a taste.”
Her captor shoved at the overfamiliar vamp’s face. “Don’t touch what’s
mine.”
A blast of dark, sensual heat shot through her as he claimed her as his.
If she wasn’t careful, this mammoth with the toe-tingling, growly voice could
consume her in more ways than one.
Buy Links for Claimed as Theirs
Amazon.com https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08VGTLMG2/
Amazon UK https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B08VGTLMG2/
Amazon CA https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B08VGTLMG2/
Amazon Au https://www.amazon.com.au/Claimed-as-Theirs-Kryssie-Fortune-ebook/dp/B08VGTLMG2
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