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PASSION FROM DECADENCE COLLECTION 2ND EDITION
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“Illusions Are Very Dangerous People…They Have No Flaws!” Just As Omission Is Guilt, in Love and War.
A behind closed doors romance turned steamy ménage’ et’ trois, with the handsome and powerful millionaire Mr. Bart. Total wealthy dominant, and calculating rogue type. Once he lays eyes upon the stunning ebony beauty Stella-Ann Kelly, like all power players, the gentleman had to have her.
The pragmatic and existentially stoic beauty soon finds herself turning to the dark side in a dangerous game of Russian Roulette, to win over Mr. Bart’s heart! Surreptitiously, harvesting powers she’d been longing for, all her adult life. However, somewhere along her journey; lines began to become blurred, and her yearning becomes a carnivorous hunger. The type of which she had never suborned, from within herself before. But how far is too far, when game playing traps are too bitter to live with? And…at what cost?
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ABRIDGED EXCERPT (INTELECTUAL PROPERTY OF AUTHOR J. Z. LUCIANO
AS WE SLEPT
As we slept (all of Georgia’s sons and daughters), that infamous Sunday night in February two-thousand-fourteen; the second arctic blast spread across Georgia, like one of the seven plagues of Egypt. It fell over our houses, buildings, Roads, and waterways! Even our peach orchards, with its beautiful white veil of lacy flakes, had the appearance of a wonderful winter wonderland. Only—this time—we Georgians were prepared for war! We would not be snowed in without a fight!
During that infamous night I had fallen into another one of those deep winter night trances. In doing so, I temporarily, ignored the impending peril barreling towards the sides of the precious Mountain retreats of Georgia. Unbeknownst to us all, behind the snows beautiful lacy veil were thousands of icy daggers.
Those sharp and jagged edged weapons of mass destruction were bound and determined to stab the ridges to death. Not realizing it, at first, the beautiful veil of snow had begun to leave in her path hundreds of helpless victims—too stubborn to leave their sumptuous and lofty mountain retreats!
Nonetheless, we swanky mountain cabin dwellers; sinners, and saints⸻who felt we knew our God, couldn’t wrap our minds around the impending doom, barreling towards the north Georgia ridges, at nearly one hundred miles per hour. Yet, we clung, like little lost children, to the feeble bit of that which we truly knew of our Christianity (prayers, hope and beliefs). We needed this type of rationale, so to speak. Something had to make sense for our existential reality and cognitive reasoning. Because none of us could possibly believe, nor fathom how the great state of Georgia could be hit…yet again.
However—in reference to my own resolve and survival—I would not be claimed by Mother Nature’s icy bitch…well…at least not without having to fight the good fight. No—I’m afraid the Lady Elle (Me) had both a rogue and guardian angel. One of Georgia’s very own statesmen, hero (now turned billionaire developer for Locke’ Martin Contracting) ⸻and his resolve for my safety was simple—nothing was gonna happen to me, that day. NOT ON HIS WATCH!
Little could, either of us, have suspected how much that resolve and gallantry would impact our lives psychologically, physically, and most intimately! It all began rather abruptly: with the first blanket of beautiful snow!
Albeit cognitively or spiritually rational…we were forced to face that which we had no control over. We had to confront two facts and truths of our faiths and beliefs. Would the gods that we so faithfully serve… send such a perilous “Icy Incubus” to destroy our homes and swanked up cabin chalets: which we thought and proclaimed arrogantly, as our paradise on this earth?!
I mean seriously?! None of us more sinisterly and lasciviously dark-minded mountain folk could wrap our privileged and incredulous brains around this notion, especially me. Truly. Our minds, from a sacred feminine kinda perspective, just couldn’t go there. Not in a million years. Too iterate it realistically⸻we were all stuck on stupid, and without any answers that would make rational sense. Although prepared for war (bags packed earlier that night), I was utterly and completely unaware, that true peril I would have to face was far more primally and carnally perilous than I could have ever imagined, in fucking million years!
RINGS OF WARNING
Ring…Ring…Ring went my little Smartphone under my pillow: surprised the signal went through.
“Hello”—I said in a very raspy voice.
I recognized the voice on the other end immediately! It was him (Mr. Alexi). My new decadently strange gentleman lover, who out of nowhere had recently entered my life, changing shit up left and right.
Of course, in a good way. So far. I had an odd and riling gut fear that this dangerous weather event would be kinda different, though. (Just something a girl feels deep down in her Louisiana bayou bones.)
“Hun…You need to get that damn sexy chocolate ass of yours off the side of that fucking dangerous & iced over mountain right the hell now, and to your son’s place, ASAP!”
“And…Hun, I do mean right the hell now!
I mean this Girl!”
I knew then that this shit was fucking for… real! (Something in his voice). Alexi’s breathing, on the other end, slaked through the phone, the likes of a paranormal entity. He now had my full attention! “Baby…I mean it…THIS IS NOT A DAMN DRILL, of sorts!”
There was a long silence, before I, both reacted and responded. Because I really had no idea what the fuck to say! Was I being slighted, or what?
Now my angst was up, just a tad. But I knew to handle Alexi with a long-handled spoon (or was he handling me). I played it tight to the vest. I delivered a more precisioned and concise response.
I didn’t know if he fully understood, fully, who the hell he was dealing with? I knew one thing…this was nothing short of his form of negotiations.
“What in Sam hell do you mean by my son’s place, especially when that chalet from hell of yours is closer? I asked with nothing short of a scold, accompanied by the widening of my almond shaped eyes.
At the same time tapping the receiver with the tips of my long fire engine red nails (that damn boy loved that damn color). Knowing full well that shit drove Alexi crazy, as hell sensually. His heavy breathing kinda gave him away. But since the situation was kinda dire, I decided not to tease or taunt him. (But shit some of those mountain men had some sexy and strange fetishes.)
“Are you now afraid of little old me… your sexy black Scarlett O’Hara…or rather your Hamilton Woman…as you have often referred to me, of course! I chide into my cell phone’s receiver. But truth be known, my heart was pounding like hell, from utter incredulity of his response.
“Ohhhh…Boo if you scared… just say you scared…and I’ll journey southward, to my son’s place? I never stopped chuckling at his sweet and sexy ass, as if I were physically poking Alexi’s manhood.
“No baby… I am simply warning you beforehand. Just want you to be certain and assured!” He laughed softly.
“Because once we embark on this eight-to- ten-day winter lock down journey with one another, that’s it. You are in our full quarter, no retreating. The issue of turning back, for either of us is out of the question. Um…just saying, baby.” “Search yourself…be sure.” He laughed softly. But there was something bone chilling and alluring about his laugh and response. He was fucking bating the shit out of me, subconsciously.
My eyes were opened so far wide, they nearly glared out my pupils. Again, I am uniquely familiar with those old state department tactics and negotiations of his, when I heard them. He was fooling no one. That boy wanted me at his chalet bad, and he fucking knew it! I quickly jumped from my bed and ran to the back door. Of course, I was naked as a jaybird. That is how we mountain folk tend to sleep, sometime. The wood burning stove, upstairs, had my entire chalet engulfed in this heady warmth. It felt like a damn lover’s arms securing my entire robust silhouette. No denying that nightly ritual…ever! Sleep always came easy.
Who the hell, in their right state of mind, would want to awaken from that type of bliss and comfort? Not me Shit I wanted to continue my damn slumber, and continue basking in that warmth of my swanky mountain retreat. It really was the cabin from hell…in a good way!
Meanwhile, Alexi could hear me struggling to unlock the door—yet waited patiently for me to gain a full visual of the deadly white veil!! Finally, I was able to breach the snow and ice sealing the back door. A terrible frown descended upon my face as I struggled to retain his warning mentally
“Holy shit”—I recanted!
“Baby there has to be 4 inches on the ground already!” I pulled my hair back, as I cupped my cell phone in my neck all in an effort to put my curly tresses into a ponytail.
“Elle, baby, how long will it take you to pack a bag?” The gentleman inquired with the sensual drawl and discernment of a chivalrous southern gentleman. (Or was he a scoundrel in disguise?)
Another frown descended upon my face, but with a little folly accompanying it! “Uh…soldier here baby…I packed my bags last night—just in case!” I could hear him chuckling like crazy.
“I might have known…Good Girl! Now get the hell off the side of that mountain.” My response to him was very simple, and to the point.
ARIVAL TO THE MANOR Within thirty-six minutes the cabin was secured, and I was out the door. My exodus off that mountain was a small scrimmage, but I won that battle! I had to rely heavily on those old Army skills of survival.
In the end those skills proved to be paramount as they assisted me in getting to interstate 575 safely and expeditiously! I don’t think I will tell Alexi that I almost ended up in a fifteen -hundred -foot drop, into the ravine by my cabin. The road has iced over, already. But I’m, finally, on the interstate safely now. No need to tell him every damn thing. But what the fuckity…fuck?! That snow slushed laden icy roadway looked like spring break, at Fort Lauderdale! We were all going the same way, and at 15 miles per hour. Needless to say, everyone was honking like crazed and out of control coeds. I thought I would never make it to Canton Georgia. Ever! But I did.
Finally, I made it to the “Grove Park Reserve” where Mr. Lockheed Martin was anxiously awaiting my arrival: in a full military battle dress. I had never ever seen before. As I turned into the drive, he waltzed out the front entrance, as he posted himself on the stoop. I smiled to myself, feeling a little Scarlett O’Hara, or rather a bit G. I. Jane like…the jury is still out on that.
The storm had begun to scurry about in the air. It was a mixture of tingling ice and snowflakes or was this a warning and omen…as well?! For whatever reason, I still felt invigorated! So dangerously decadent.
“Welcome beautiful…he said as his eyes sparkled through those silver rimmed glasses of his.
“We better get you inside out of this mess.” He politely wrapped my arm in his, and graciously escorted me up the steps and into the foyer of his swanky chalet.
Before I was given the thousand-dollar tour of his home Alexi assisted me out of my wrap: as he simultaneously kissed me on my bare, cold, and exposed neck. I declare…this damn lady lit up like the freaking 4th of July—no exaggeration there.
The gentleman was as giddy, as I was, but in a manly man sort of way. He grabbed me by the hand, started to ask me about my drive down but was interrupted by his military “crack berry” phone. “Oh boy”…We both said aloud sarcastically!
“That’s Top Top Dog (The Governor’s office of Georgia) …calling wonder what he wants.”
I stood there in a cold shiver, racing up and down my chilly extremities. Because I knew instinctively what that call meant! The briefing only lasted for a little while, but a great deal of task-mastering went on between those two war horses. As he hung up with Top his eyes met mine: while he slowly rested his arms gently on my shoulders—squeezing gently between short breaths of excitement.
My eyes simply focused automatically on his full and dewy moist lips. Because I knew instinctively what was about to follow: we were now working with a timeline toward some Tom Foolery and dangerously decadent shit. He tried to hide it, but I could see the words written within those, cool oceanic blue, eyes. (They were undressing every layer of clothing on my body).
That said, I said nothing that would interrupt Alexi’s brief—not a single word. I could tell the gentleman standing frontal of me was both pleased and curious. There is just something about a soldier’s instinct…we know when “to put up and shut up…lol!” Still—I gave way to the General, Alexi! There was nothing short of pure adulation in his eyes: along with those gentle squeezes—I loved it!
“I gotta go report to the Governor, Hun…we are all being activated, but later tomorrow— for now I have to man the phones and get everybody in… I’m so sorry!” I smiled, placed my hands on his strong broad shoulders, and responded quickly to his feeling sorry towards me.
“Georgia needs all of her able sons today…You are no different…Go make us all proud!” He looked at me with an ardent type of admiration⸻completely stunned by my remark and willingness to understand. I don’t know why? I’m a soldier and patriot—will bleed on the flag to keep it red! Smiling, he turned to run up the stairs to finish prepping for his duty.
“I gotta change shirts…You are welcome to come on up!” Alexi darted up those spiraling stairs and went straight to work as if I were a part of the manor’s daily occupants—I could not believe it! I was both happy and relieved. I sat at the edge of his huge king-sized bed watching him prepare for duty when suddenly he pulled off his t-shirt because it felt too small. SWEET MOTHER OF JESUS!!!
That boy was a hairy sexy beast! I was on my feet in 1.2 seconds: dead center of him, as he gifted me a coy smile. “Dammit Boy!”
“Now that’s a visual a woman lives for”…I chuckled! A part of me knew then that we were charting a path to the crazy place (carnal bliss): where neither party could retreat—nor would be willing to do so!
As Alexi began pulling his freshly ironed t-shirt over his upper torso, he never took his eyes off me. I reciprocated in kind, as the room drew silent and warmer.
“Whew…we had better break this silence right here.”
Together we let out a few deep breaths, and simply regain control of our senses. The gentleman grabbed my right hand, as he assisted me in doing an about face so we could quickly exit the room. Before we made it to the staircase Alexi stopped dead in his tracks. I, of course, was a little bewildered by the gesture. Was another briefing about to follow…were we getting ready to review the house rules—what? None of the above.
That fucking boy stood face to face with me again, cupped my chin in his hand and softly kissed my lips: simultaneously embracing me as sternly as his could. My goose bumps turned to full on welts; I believe. After releasing his embrace, he grabbed both my hands and pulled them up to his chest. That boy was smiling like a Cheshire cat.
“Make yourself at home baby, please!” I whispered a very quiet thank you: hell, my knees were still knocking.
It wasn’t as if we were strangers to one another, but before that day, Alexi and I never ventured into each other’s private spaces so impetuously—this wa,s truly, very unfamiliar territory for us both. However, I could sense that Allan may have been a little more seasoned than myself—on the venturing end, that is.
The Lord of the manor, so to speak, finally began waltzing me down the spiraled staircase just running off at the mouth, I heard very little: was still reeling from the boudoir and loft activity. I could not help myself I could sense where all this was heading: and I wanted to get there fast: before my curiosity got the better of me! (Had no idea of what was really awaiting me!)
Finally, we reached the bottom of those gilded spiral stairs, and my tour of the manor’s formal areas began. “Hun…this is my favorite place—the polar.” My eyes widen as they scanned the beauty and grandeur of that room.
However, what really caught my attention were two unique pieces, which to me, gave the room so much character and elegance: one was an ebony and ivory humidor fully stocked with cigars from all over the world—the other a solid cherry rounded cocktail table.
This table was anything short of ordinary. At her edge was a very thick book with a few loose papers inside of it. Alexi picked it up, as he slowly eased me down on the sofa.
“Let’s take a look and see what is inside of this big baby.” I could not help but laugh at him: that book was huge. He placed the pages on my lap, as he politely stroked the inside of my left thigh. Total rake!
once that huge book opened wide in my lap, I could not believe what I was viewing and reading. Plus, that book was a sexual overture. When it opened, it reminded me of a woman’s legs spread wide open, slowly. My knees quivered, just a tad.
But still, I search my mind frantically, for some type of crazy rational for my harlot thoughts. I had none. The pages explained the authenticity of the table, and its origin. He purchased it from the “House of Spencer”: as in Lady Diana Spencer. I looked over at him shaking my head.
“Okay—this is really intimidating but fascinating at the same time, I remarked. Alexi chuckled so loudly.
“Girl that’s not this table’s best feature…you know that right?”
“Uh…how in the hell am I supposed to know that? I leaned backwards on the sofa to rest on its back.”
“This table’s best feature my sweet is that it’s sturdy as hell: sturdy enough to hold two people at one time.” My lips buttoned…just a tad.
My senses knew better. I would be on that table⸻one way or the other. Um… no fool. However, I sat there still. Listening, as if, I was a child listening to a parent telling me a “Soooo—-shall we continue to tour the other wing of the house? I recanted with firmness in my voice, but for some reason I could not hide my curiousness and blushing from his last remark—nor could he.
We both knew it was time to continue, or put that table to the litmus test, so to speak. Of course, we both choose wisely—the tour of the manor continued. As I stood in awesome wonder of the manor’s grandeur and intense allure, I could not help but wonder to myself.
“Who was the man behind it all?” This manor was put together with pure brick and motor: and great deal of detailing was paid to its many amenities. I remember standing in the middle of the kitchen watching and listening to its owner explain every cup and cupboard to me. He stopped and gazed at me very intensely.
“What?” I asked softly. His eyes became flirty: while he smirked at me. “Come here Hun I wanna show you something.” Alexi could not stop laughing.
“Boy what the hell are you up too?” I followed close behind him to the wet-bar area.
“Oh damn—-ok I aint never leaving the confines of this swanky joint!” Oh, dear God…there was enough hooch on that bar, and in its cupboards to serve the whole of Atlanta! There had to have been Thirty to forty bottles of wine on and in that wet bar! Her sides were bursting with Single Malt Scotches, Bourbons, Expensive Brandies, Tequilas, and Greg Goose Bottles everywhere. Shit—we were in hog-heaven!
Yet, instinctively, I knew my primally carnivorous ass was in fucking trouble. Alexi placed my hands in his back pockets. He was completely rock hard! My knees nearly buckled, as my mouth watered for him to come closer, and kiss the shit out of me. I know. Harlot, as hell!
“Follow me baby girl.” He led me to the bay windows off the breakfast nook. The backdrop was nothing short of stunning! Mother Nature had begun to paint a beautiful wonderland amongst the trees and shrubbery. Her lacy veil decorated the yard: turning it into a winter wonderland. We stood in the window for a good twenty minutes captured by nature’s rapture, and the serenity of the manor. Things were picking up fast!
Suddenly, the rapture was broken when Alexi planted warm subtle kisses along my cheeks and neck. Suddenly, those subtle kisses turned to multiple tiny bites. I nearly collapsed in that boys arms. But I began to feel something a little different, at the same time. I believe it was my alpha female forcing her way to the top. She had no idea that it would an epic battle, for her ass. Still, she was a damn fighter!
“What was all those naughty ass kisses for, darling?” I had to ask, because I didn’t know what else to say.
“Thanks for you coming here where you are safe?” I smirked just a little.
“Am I safe here with you?” I asked with a slight trimmer in my knees. They truly wanted to fucking buckle like hell. His eyes opened and shut rapidly…well…at least before the darkness the calls and falls.”
He turned and poked me in the stomach. I thought my knees were going to go ahead and completely buckle behind that gesture and statement. It was just something in Alexi’s eyes and voice. However, I managed to keep my composure. “Baby—it’s time to break in this bar! “Uh…yeah girl. Thought you would never get around to it!”
“Next, it’s time to break you the hell in, my Czech and Welch way…drink up baby!” We both turn to face each other, glaring into each other’s eyes we embraced and kissed one another again: only this time the kisses were a little sloppier and forceful. We had to break away quickly.
“Ok—-shall we pop open the Dom or Moet?
“Neither” …I said!
“Darling if you are gonna do hooch…do hooch—pop open that Malbec you talk about all the time.
“Girl…you are true to a man’s heart!”
“Consider it done!” Alexi turned to me, then began signaling for me to come over to bar. Frowning—I rushed over with curiosity about why I was being summoned, like a fucking girl gone wild. Totally fucked up.
“Okay little lady you get to choose our poison tonight.” The track light began dancing off his circular Armani frames: those beautiful hazel oceanic eyes began to pierce my body armor. I began thinking quietly to myself.
“I am in sssooo much trouble!” Each time his eyes would rise and fall, I felt a slight tingling in my spine. I think he suspected as much but was too much of a gentleman to admit it. “Jesus!”
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MEET AUTHORESS: MS. J. Z. LUCIANO
Hailing from Stockbridge, Georgia, J.Z. Luciano is a multi-genre author/writer. A Business Law and Economics undergraduate alumna of Mississippi Valley State University, Troy State University, and Auburn University at Montgomery, she also is proud to be an honorable veteran of the United States Army. In addition, Ms. Luciano is an Operation Just Cause and Persian Gulf veteran. Her eyes have seen and experience a great deal of the world, to say the least. The author and veteran performed most of her military duty as a communications instructor, and ceremonial detail for fallen soldiers. Hers’ was a learners & extraordinary career. Becoming a “ROMANTIC SUSPENSE FICTION NOIR”…was her destiny!