Tuesday, October 9, 2012

Excerptfest 2012: Third Rail

I've written a lot of ebooks.  I'd give you a number, but in truth I've lost count.  Somewhere around 100 maybe?  I don't even know.

When you have a lot of work on the market, it's actually kind of hard to market it.  And when I say hard, I mean overwhelming.  Especially when you've written books you've totally forgotten about.

So I'm sitting here, trying to remember.  I'm checking out my publishers' sites and saying, "Hey, lookie here!  I wrote that book!"  I'm also thinking, I should post this excerpt on my blog.  So that's what I'm going to do.  And I'm starting with... (drum roll please)...

Third Rail, published in the transfix line at loveyoudivine Alterotica:

Perhaps it is a touch unusual to have a girlfriend and boyfriend both living in the same body, but Kokoro doesn’t classify her relationship with Fiona and Martin as strange. Kokoro rides the third rail, a dutifully subservient lover to both aspects of her transgendered partner’s psyche.


“Come on, let’s say goodnight to Fiona,” Fiona said, shifting Kokoro from her lap and heading for the stairs. She extended her hand, but still Kokoro stayed planted in the kitchen. “Why aren’t you coming? You really think I’m going to let you sleep on the floor?”

“No, it’s not that,” Kokoro replied, cuddling into the chair abandoned by her beautiful Domme.

“What then?”

“I just hate saying goodbye.”

With a tender smile, Fiona ambled across the kitchen. Kokoro observed their blue-tinged reflections in the glass door as her sensitive lover kissed her hair and consoled, “I hate saying goodbye to Fiona, too, but I can’t very well wear the wig to bed, now can I? And, anyway, even after Fiona’s gone, you’ve still got Martin to play with.”

“Yeah…” Kokoro smirked, scrunching her nose in a deliberate effort to appear snide. “Not really the same, is it?”

Fiona shook her head, slipping the gold bracelet from her wrist. “When did I become my own rival for your affections?”

“It’s all your fault. You’re the one who introduced yourselves to me.”

You might find this older version
of the book cover on certain sites.
Same book, different cover.
The bedroom had been tidied to a certain degree, though clothing still hung from the hooks behind the door. The jewellery strewn across her dressing table elicited visions of Ali Baba’s cave: gold and gold, and then some more gold on top of that when Fiona removed her earrings.

“I’ve never once seen your boy clothes when I’ve been here,” Kokoro realized.

Fiona shrugged, tilting her head. “I don’t like to look at them unless I have to.”

“Like you’ll have to tomorrow morning when you get ready for work?”

Shuddering, Fiona moaned, “Don’t remind me.” A winged insect of some sort abducted her gaze, and she focused on it for a long while.

Kokoro let her bra and panties fall to the floor, slipping into the silk chemise she’d brought along, all while Fiona watched the flying creature buzz desperately along the line where the bedroom wall met the ceiling. The night air was chilly. Kokoro slipped into Nuala’s side of the bed.

“I could close my eyes, if you’d prefer,” Kokoro offered, breaking Fiona’s concentration.

“What do you mean?”

“While you change. I don’t have to watch if you don’t want me to.”

“If I didn’t want you to see, you wouldn’t be here.”

Kokoro sighed. “You make everything so difficult.”

With a shrug, Fiona giggled, “That’s my prerogative. Every good girlfriend knows how to make things difficult for her partner. Now, then, are we ready for the wig to come off?”

Absorbing the image of beautiful Fiona, the preferred aspect of this duo, Kokoro nodded, and the wig returned to its home in the closet. Martin tussled his tawny hair, but it still stuck straight up. He unbuttoned the white shirt and squirmed out of his long skirt, hanging both on the back of the bedroom door. The bra was white. The panties were, too. A vicious Domme in basic white undies? But for Fiona, somehow it worked.

Kokoro didn’t need to follow her into the bathroom; she could see Fiona’s reflection in the mirror on the dressing table. It was Martin who rubbed out Fiona with makeup pads, Martin who removed the shimmer from her lips and around her eyes, Martin who scrubbed away her existence with apricot exfoliant. And yet, how can I resent Martin when, truly, he and Fiona were one and the same? Without Martin, there would be no Fiona. Without Fiona, there would be no Martin. It worked both ways.

“Feel how warm these get,” Martin glowed, handing her two heavy-duty water balloons that, seconds ago, had been breasts.

“Oh yeah…” Kokoro replied, watching Martin slip off one then another pair of big white underpants.

“Do you really have to wear granny panties? They are so unattractive. Would it kill you to buy a little lace, a few thongs?”

Naked before her, Martin raised an eyebrow. “Takes a lot more than a thong to keep this thing in check,” he replied. “Besides, who wants something crammed up her backside all day?”

Now it was Kokoro’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “I’m guessing we’re still talking about thongs?”

“Yes, Koko,” Martin scolded as he fished through his drawer of silky nighties, settling on the pink one. “Why? What would you prefer to have crammed up your backside?”

“I don’t know,” Kokoro gurgled. “Weren’t you just saying you needed some place to conceal your cock?”

Martin growled deep in his throat as he turned off the light. Crawling on top of the covers in the pitch-blackness, he was on top of her in no time. He found her intuitively, found her mouth with his as she ran her hands across his silk-lined back, sighing at the luxury.

The boy was back in town.

Sure, he was wearing a nightie, but the pure passion of the masculine aspect was back in full force. His hands caressed her cheeks, ran madly through her hair, and his lust ignited that which had ebbed in her. Kokoro moaned at the kisses of his mouth, glad for the darkness. Fiona was so much prettier, but she’d been put in the cupboard.

“Do you know how hot you get me, Koko?” he whispered, his breath sizzling in her ear. Martin’s voice was not Fiona’s. There was an overlap, but it was not the same. This voice had depth and a resonance that brewed lust in her core.

“So hot, Koko. You get me so hot.”

And he wasn’t lying. His cock was hard as he rubbed it against her mound. Even with two layers of silk, a sheet and a coverlet between them, he knew precisely where to stroke.

I actually made a trailer for this wee $2 ebook, and you can view it at lyd's site: http://www.loveyoudivine.com/index.php?main_page=document_product_info&cPath=66&products_id=570 Just scroll to the bottom of the page.  You can also buy a copy there, which would please me greatly. heh.

More excerpts to come!

No comments:

Post a Comment