All hail the Prince of Whispers

He’s here.


Crispin Saville…a wicked mix of medieval prince and mischievous villain. Inspired by Tom Hiddleston’s Loki and Henry V, he will not be satisfied until you’re on your knees, begging for mercy.

A whisper from the man himself…

Dear reader,

If you are expecting a traditional medieval tale or charming prince, you will not find it here. I am not like other men for I have a voracious appetite and will appease it no matter the cost. Do you doubt my confession? Then I invite you to step into my kingdom.

Women were created for pleasure, tis my obligation to see them fulfilled. When I whisper, they come to me. All save one…Lady Ruby. I can see the desire in her eyes even though her pure and noble heart fights against it. She may be an outlaw, but a rare gem such as she has never been found in Meradin. She is my challenge, my penance, and my weakness. Nothing short of Almighty God Himself can keep her from me. I shall possess her. Ruby is mine.

Dear reader, will you begrudge me your company when you learn of my past and how wicked I can truly be? Or will you come to me willingly, surrender yourself to my charms, and beg for more? Surely my tale of intrigue, murder, and treason will be enough to tempt you to sin with me if only for a short while. Come with me, and I will lay myself bare.

Crispin Saville


Damn is he wicked. A tease, just like me. *wink* I’ll post a special teaser from his book next week for Tease Me Thursday.

Interested in picking up a copy, you can do so here:




Will you kneel before the Prince of Whispers?


Tease Me Thursday

This week you get to see the Western side of me. *wink* This story has been brewing for a while. I think it’s gonna be good.

*******WARNING:  Seduction and cowboys. Dangerous combination. ************

“You want me,” she said, her seductive voice slipping from her lips like her chemise straps from her shoulders.

“Lou, I don’t think…” he sputtered and swallowed the selling arousal, beating it into submission. All that did was flash images of her bare behind bent over his lap.

“Think what, Colt. Think you can tame me?” She took a step closer, the chemise clinging to her breasts like a whispered prayer. Reaching out, she traced her fingertip over his jaw down to feather over his lower lip.

“You’re drunk, Lou.” He steeled himself against the seductive allure of her touch.

“Aren’t you? I know you matched me. Shot for shot.”

He scoffed. “I have a higher tolerance for whiskey than you do. Stop, now, before you do something you’ll regret in the morning.” Pushing her hand from his face, he gripped her wrist savoring the silken skin beneath his fingers.

She stared at her wrist in his hand. Glancing up, she met his eyes, tears welling up.

“You…” she murmured. “You don’t want me?”

“Damn it, Lou.” He dropped her hand and stood so quickly, she stumbled back, collapsing into a chair. He raked a hand through his hair when the tears spilled silently over her cheeks.

“Darlin’, don’t cry.” He knelt beside her, placing his hand on hers.

She jerked it away, covering her face with her hands.

“Go,” she whispered so softly Colton almost missed it.

“I don’t…”

“I said leave, damn it!” she screamed, as the sobs started.

“Okay, I’m going.” Colton rose and strode to the door. He paused, hand on the knob listening to the soft hiccuping cry. “I’m sorry,” he said, barely looking over his shoulder. Once he was outside with the door closed behind him, he ground his teeth. Seeing her in pain was more than he could bear. What bothered him was her reaction to his refusal. He would never take advantage of her in an intoxicated state and she would appreciate that. Wouldn’t she?

He mussed his hair some more.

Colton wanted her more than anything else in the world. Always had, even when they were wild children. He always loved Louise, loved her enough to know when to walk away.


I hope you enjoyed this one. Leave your thoughts in the comments.

❤ Jen

Tease Me Thursday

My teaser for you this week comes from a little fantasy I’ve had for years. Not sure where it’s going yet, but I would LOVE to finish it and find out.

**********WARNING: Naughty thoughts about professors lie ahead. Proceed with caution.*********


Lexie sat in the over-sized leather armchair facing the mahogany desk. Bookshelves lined the walls and towered above her, intimidating and bold. She glanced at the door where a brass name plate gleamed back at her: Professor A. Logan. Lexie shifted in her seat, leaned her head back, and closed her eyes.

“Sorry about that, Alexandra.” A masculine voice echoed from the doorway. “Had to tie up a few loose ends with the other faculty members about our class trip to New York City. Going to be a great trip. You planning on coming?”

She cracked open one eye and looked at him. He looked like a professor. The perfect specimen of a teacher that makes female students squirm during lesson time and pine for one-on-one instruction. Lexie would be the first to admit it; Professor Logan was a prime grade A man. Although she didn’t believe in teacher/student fraternization, she’d break that rule, in a heartbeat. Professor Logan was nothing but professional and courteous. So Lexie kept her lustful musings to herself.

“I was thinking about it actually,” she replied as she sat up and gave him a grin. She’d been told once that her smile was infectious. When he smiled back, she wished it wasn’t. Her heart skipped and stumbled a beat or two, and when it finally caught normal rhythm, she felt a shift of gravity in his direction. His smile was magnetic.

“Payment for the trip is due by Friday,” he said as he sat down behind his desk. “Don’t want you to forget. It’s going to be a fantastic trip.” He locked eyes with her. “I’d hate for you to miss all the fun.” The corner of his lips tilted upward and her heart stopped completely. It was more devastating than the smile. She looked at the bookcase and caught her breath.

Holy hell, I need to get out of here before I make an ass of myself and say something stupid. She gathered her composure and turned her gaze back to him.

“You said there was something you needed to go over with me to receive that final scholarship award?” She hoped that her voice sounded normal but being in this confined space made her more aware of him than ever. Let’s hurry this up, I need to go wring out my panties.

Yes, I have a few questions I need you to answer before I can sign this recommendation for your scholarship.” He stood and walked around his desk then sat down in the chair next to hers. He handed her a clipboard with a few sheets of paper attached.

“Do you have a pen?” she asked, suddenly warm and breathless.

“Take mine.” He handed her his pen, his fingertips grazing hers.

Oh my sweet Jesus! It took all of her willpower not to jump him then and there. He was so close, his cologne swirled around her causing coherent thought to swarm and burst into blurbs of gibberish. Lexie looked down at the paper. She could see words, but no meaning infiltrated her brain.

She could sense him watching her. She forced herself to keep her eyes on the paper in front of her. Lexie tried to read but was distracted by his steady breaths.

“Are you okay, Lexie?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “They’re just standard questions. It’s not a midterm exam.” He chuckled.

She laughed nervously and quickly filled out the forms. At this point she didn’t care what they said. She just needed to get out of his office. His proximity was affecting her brain’s ability to form coherent thought. Lexie handed the paperwork back to him. This time there was no mistaking his hand grazing hers as he took the clipboard for an accident. She looked at him surprised.

“You have very beautiful eyes, Lexie.”

His compliment made her shiver. “Thank you,” she stammered. “I should be going.” She stood, but he was already walking toward the door. He closed it, effectively telling her to stay.

“Professor Logan, I should…” She reached past him for the door handle. His hand closed over hers, and she froze. An electrical current zinged between them, the warmth of his touch made her weak and hungry for more. “I should go.”


I hope you enjoyed this week’s teaser. Please feel free to leave comments.

❤ Jen

Tease Me Thursday

This week is another snippet from Crispin’s story. Enjoy.

******NSFW: Graphic descriptions and general bad-assery********


“These dogs have been a menace to the people for far too long, and the King’s men have done nothing to halt their attacks.  They must be dealt with.”

“You believe you are up to the task then?” Cris asked, watching her closely. “Tell me, lovely Ruby, how many men have you killed?”

For a moment, she stared at him, distracted by his compliment, then his question struck her. “Too many,” she said as she fingered the bow at her side.

“Not with an arrow, at a distance,” he said, leaning closer, his gaze rived to hers, his blue eyes piercing her own.  Her heart fluttered and pounded. “I mean looked them in the eye as you plunged the blade in their chest, then watched the life slowly drain from them.”

Ruby opened her mouth to answer but snapped it closed.  The truth was, she hadn’t, but she couldn’t bring herself to tell him.  She wasn’t proud of the fact that she’d killed anyone at all, but something in his expression made her want to earn his approval.  But that was ridiculous.  Why should she care what a pompous noble’s son thought of her?  She pressed her lips together.

“That’s what I thought,” he said, the corners of his mouth twisting up. “You haven’t.”

“Does it matter?” she snapped.

“It does.  What if one of your rescues went awry and one of the bandits has you pinned, ready to rape you or worse?  Your bow can’t save you.  Will you let him take you any way he wishes and then steal your last breaths with agony and pain?”

She stared at him, her jaw clenched tight.  “I shall defend myself as necessary.”

“Even if that means slitting his throat?”


His eyes narrowed. “I don’t believe you.  I could take a blade to your throat right now and you’d let me live.”

Ruby slapped him, the crack of her palm against his cheek louder than she thought it would be.  His smile widened, his eyes laughing as they focused on her again.  She raised her hands to strike him again, and his hand encircled her wrist.

Within a breath, he was straddling her legs, his hands around both wrists, effectively pinning her against the tree.  She glared at him as he sat on her lap.  Ruby jerked her body, trying to free herself.  His hold tightened.

“Get off of me,” she ground out from between her teeth.

“I told you,” he said, leaning closer so his breath whispered across her cheek. “You couldn’t take me.”

“Let me at my dagger and I shall prove it.” Ruby met his gaze.  Her mind raged at her, screaming at the imminent danger.  It was her body that betrayed her as her back arched toward him, her breasts brushing against his doublet.

“Not today,” he said as his lips claimed hers.  The kiss went straight to her head, pleasure surged through her mingled with anger.  Indecision swirled through her like a whirlpool. The more she fought him, the harder he leaned against her, sliding his body along hers.  Delicious friction played between them.  Sparks of desire ignited inside of her.  Even though she didn’t want him, she wanted what he offered.  A hunger she didn’t even know she had awakened.


Until next week, my wicked darlings.

❤ Jen


Tease Me Thursday

Here’s this weeks teaser. It’s a scene I’m going to use in a novella. A masquerade story set in the 19th century.


******WARNING:  NSFW, I repeat NSFW. Sexy fun time descriptions.************


“Sweet Julia,” he breathed, leaning closer. “Would you do me the honor of your company?”
I open my mouth slightly to protest his charming words, and his lips press down upon mine in a cunning, gentle kiss.

“Come, my lady,” he says, meeting my gaze. “Let us away.”

He takes my hand and leads me to a darkened chamber off to the side of the main ballroom. Once inside, he closes the door and locks it.  His gaze is predatory as he turns and stalks toward me. He pins me up against the wall, his hands framing my body.  His warmth envelops me, and I can feel the heat rising in my cheeks.

“What do you wish of me, your grace?” I whisper as he slides his hand up over my hip.

“My lady, I want your beauty for myself.” His breath caresses my lips. I suddenly want to taste him. His hand cups my breast through the gown. I curse the fabric, wanting us skin to skin, with nothing inhibiting his touch. He leans into me, his lean, strong body pressing against me.

I whimper as his lips brush against my jaw. “My lord…I…I….”

“Tonight,” he murmurs between kisses, “you are mine.”

“What about the ball, your father, the guests?” I rasp out as he slowly inches up my skirt. His fingers trail over the silk and velvet, letting the cool air kissing my thighs. I’m overwhelmed with sensation. He lifts his head and looks at me. His blue eyes are the color of midnight.

His fingertips brush against my thigh, sliding up underneath my drawers. When he touches my center, I shiver with anticipation. “You’re so wet. Have you been thinking of me, hoping that I’d notice you?”

“Aye, my lord.” I can barely get the words out as he dips his finger inside of me.

He claims my lips in a punishing kiss.  I taste the wine spiced with desire on his lips as he plunders my mouth.  My hands slip into his hair, wrapping in the curls, tugging.  His kiss is only intensified by the gentle stroking of his hand between my legs.  He slides two fingers inside of me and I cry out against his mouth.  His other hand slides into my bodice, cupping my breast.

I’m about to explode from the onslaught.  His touch ignites a fire of pure desire, coiling deep in my belly.

“Oh, my wicked girl.  Is this what you wanted?” he whispers into my mouth as I gasp with pleasure.

“Aye,” I say on a gasp.

“Would you give yourself to me?  Completely?”


Oh, I’m such a tease. *wink* What did you think?

Tease Me Thursday

Here’s another snippet of Crispin’s story. *wink* Enjoy.

**Warning: Violence**

Crispin stepped down onto the street when suddenly he was surrounded by four men. The two standing to his right and left grabbed his arms, while the third wrapped his arm around his throat from behind. He thrashed against their grasp, but they were huge, hulking beasts. He was out-manned and outmaneuvered. God’sblood, teeth, and bones.

“You and I have unfinished business,” the fourth man said, stepping into the light, allowing Crispin to see his face.

“You bloody bastard,” Crispin swore. “I’ll have your head for this.Do you have any idea who you’re dealing with?”

“The ass who stole my whore,” the man said, contempt dripping from his voice. “I don’t give cocks crow who you are.” He threw a punch, and it landed in Crispin’s stomach, knocking the air from his chest. “But you’re gonna pay.”

Crispin jerked, trying to break free, wheezing for breath. The man holding his head released him but stood like a solid wall against his back. He had to defend himself, but they were too strong. Three more blows landed in succession, two to his midsection and one cracking him across the jaw. The pain shot through him as the warm, coppery tang of blood filled his mouth. He spit.

“That the best you got?” Crispin knew it would only enrage the beast more, but he never did learn to back down, even in the most hopeless situations.

The man threw another punch, square in the chest over his heart. Crispin thought his heart stopped with that blow. The world began to spin as he gasped for breath, doubling over.The men still held him steady. Crispin coughed, spewing blood all over the man’s shoes. The assailant grabbed a handful of his hair and jerked his head back. He winced and then narrowed his gaze, refusing to show weakness.

A yelp of pain to his right was followed by his sudden release. A moment later, the second man released him, clutching at his arm. The man behind them backed away, as if sensing something wasn’t right. Crispin stumbled forward, trying to catch his breath. His eyes watered from the pain throbbing in his head.He glanced up and saw the man who had just been hitting him standing as still as a marble statue. Then Crispin saw the arrow protruding from the man’s chest. The man pitched forward and Crispin scrambled out of the way, slamming into the ground.

He lay there, staring up into the starlit night catching his breath. A figure stepped into his view wearing a dark cloak with the hood pulled up.

“You just gonna lay there and bleed?”


That’s all for this week. Stay wicked my friends.

❤ Jen

Tease Me Thursday

This week I present another little gem created from a writing exercise that waits for it’s own full story.  Short and sweet.

**Warning: Not sexy, unless you’re into that kinda kink. **

Writing prompt was:  There’s nothing like the smell of…


There’s nothing like the smell of blood and decay as I wade through the filth that is my life. The giant steps I take, stepping over the bodies and decapitated heads, gives me an adrenaline rush. The coppery twang and the odor of rotting meat reaches my nose. It smells like victory.

I did this. Me. With my own two hands, I created this carnage. A grim smile touches my lips. I inhale deeply filling my lungs with the stench and the power.

Today I was a god, taking the lives of those less deserving of life. By facing me they forfeit their right to breathe. Their right to walk this world.

I am the reaper of their souls.

Why, you ask?

Because I can.


I was having a dark day. It just came spilling out. I have no idea what the story is behind that snippet, but I know some people who would sell their souls to find out.

❤ Jen

Tease Me Thursday

Today’s teaser is a writing prompt inspired journal entry…

The prompt was: “Write about losing control.”


A flash of flesh and my arm was locked in his vice-like grip. I stared at him dumbfounded.

“Let go of me,” I said simply, thinking he was playing games again.

His face was hard, his eyes holding a deadly opinion which he wisely kept to himself. Eyes locked in mute battle. I tried to charm him instead of giving into his wordless challenge.

I pulled myself within a fingertips distance of his rigid angry form.

“Something you want from me, Kale?” I flirted from beneath my lowered lashes. Allowing my free hand to roam over his torso, I traced his shirt buttons down to his waist. The grip on my wrist never faltered. It tightened.

“Ouch,” I grunted. “Damn you, Kale, that hurts! What the hell is your problem? Let me go!” I jerked my arm, torquing my wrist and pinching the flesh of my hand.

Then I noticed the movement reflected in the darkened window behind Kale. I froze, taking a moment to reorganize my thoughts. Kale leaned down on the pretense of nuzzling my neck and whispered.

“Hold your tongue.” Kale’s voice rumbled deep into my bones.

“Who is it?” I murmured slightly distracted by Kale’s wonderful masculine smell and his proximity.

“Be quiet and don’t move,” he replied. Lord, but he loved to give orders.

“How dare…” I began to retort pulling away from him. In the next instant we were on the floor with bullets whizzing over our heads. The pressure of Kale’s body pinning me to the floor was both enticing and infuriating. I was more than capable of handling myself in a firefight. But in the flash of a well muscled arm, I had lost control.


A story brewing there, perhaps? *wink* What do you think?

❤ Jen

Tease Me Thursday

Here’s a little number from a scene I’d written.  It’s not finished yet, but it was inspired by the Sherlock episode Scandal in Belgravia.  *wink*

**Warning: Explicit language and possibly offensive material…possibly. Just warning you.**


Then he saw her. Her auburn hair hung loose over her shoulders, grazing the cream silk shirt she wore. The secretary skirt did nothing to hide the curve of her hips or the long expanse of leg topped off with fuck me heels. She scanned the dining room.

He quickly lifted the newspaper, hiding his face. As he lowered it a bit, he saw her get a plate of eggs, a slice or two of bacon, some fruit and a cup of tea. He watched as she sat and ate alone in the corner. Her eyes took in everything. He shifted in his seat. He hoped to God she didn’t recognize him.

Once she’d finished her tea, she deposited her dishes in the receptacle and made her way to the ladies room.

William seized the opportunity and moved to another seat in the dining area. He opened his paper, pretending to read, when he heard the distinct click of heels on tile.

“You’re not being very discreet, darling,” she whispered in his ear.

He should have been prepared for her words.

“You haven’t turned the page for the last half hour.”

“Excuse me?” he said, deliberately turning the page and refusing to look at her. She stood behind his chair. Damn. He should have stayed by the window.

“You’ve been staring at the same page for over half an hour,” she said with a chuckle. It brushed across his sensitive earlobe. He closed his eyes and swallowed hard. Her skin smelled of lemons and jojoba oil.

“I heard you,” he said, clearing his throat. “What do you want?”

“I’m not the one pretending to read the paper.” Her breath brushed against his skin, feathering the delicate hairs on the base of his neck. “Yesterday’s paper, nonetheless.”

He folded the paper and plopped it onto the seat next to him, agitated he’d make such a trivial mistake. She shouldn’t have even been able to recognize him, the disguise had been perfectly planned down to the last detail. There was no reason to fret about it now. He knew better than to underestimate her.

“Would you care to join me?” he asked, forgoing all pretenses.

“Come along, darling,” she said. The words echoed soft in his ear as she moved away taking her scent and her delicious heat with her.

He turned in time to see her disappear around the corner. With a sigh, he stood and followed just moments behind. A small office sat with the door open. He glanced inside and found her perched on the edge of the desk, her legs crossed, tapping a solitary fingernail on the wooden surface. He entered the room, closing the door behind him and sliding the deadbolt home.

A wicked smile revealed her even white teeth. He wanted to bite her, eat her up, and show her what it meant to be devoured piece by piece until your soul is exposed and bleeding. Instead, he stood with three feet between them and shoved his hands into his pockets.

“Well.” He waited.

She leaned forward, allowing her shirt to bunch in the front, exposing just enough of her cleavage to pull his gaze downward for a split second. When he met her eyes again, they were sparkling with amusement.

“You missed me.”

His hand absently reached for his collar, tugging at it.

She slipped from the desk and took a step closer to him, her heels matching their heights. He met her, eye to eye, refusing to be swayed by the chemical reaction heating his blood.

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing, darling.” Her words caressed his lips. The hot cinnamon of the gum she recently chewed lingered on her breath. She traced her fingertip along his collar. “A priest now, are you?”

“You know I’m not.”

Her finger trailed along his black button down shirt, and she pressed her palm to his heart. “Can I make my confessions, Father?”

He focused on his mission, the one thing he had to do. Her touch drove his mind into overdrive, her words blurring his thoughts.

Her green eyes blazed with unspoken desires. Today wasn’t going how he’d anticipated. Maybe dressing as a priest had been a bit of stretch, but he thought perhaps she’d overlook him, push the image of a passive priest reading the paper to the back of her mind. No, she’d locked on him like a heat seeking missile on a volcano. Fuck.


Comments and thoughts welcome. Thanks for stopping by! 🙂

❤ Jen

Writing Process

Chris Musgrave, you flatter me, sir. While Chris embraces his dark side by writing horror, I tend to embrace my sensual side and write romance…well romantic erotica to be specific. It’s a fine line between romance and erotica. I also like to focus on the darker side of romance, the forbidden pleasures of the flesh, all the while being sure to incorporate elements of love into the process. So no, it’s not all about the sex; it’s about the journey of sensual discovery.

I’ve been remiss in posting since the A-Z Blog Challenge, for that I apologize. But twenty-six posts in a row is enough to fry anyone’s brain. Especially when mine focused on Loki…*purrs like a contented kitten*. Wait, where was I? Oh, yes, writing process post…forgive me, it seems my muse has decided to participate in the daily torture of my creative process.

Chris has requested I answer four questions:

  • What am I working on at the moment?
  • How does my work differ from others of its genre?
  • Why do I write what I do?
  • How does my writing process work?

Then came the catch: find three worthy writers and force them to answer the same questions. I have no idea who I should nominate who hasn’t been already, so I’m not tagging anyone, and you can’t make me. *sticks tongue out* I do what I want.

Now, moving on darlings, I have quite a full day here…Must remain focused.

What am I working on at the moment?

I’m working on a medieval romantic erotica tale. I haven’t decided if it’s a series of novellas or a novel, those details are to be determined at a later date (as in once I’ve finished writing it all down.)

Now, the idea for this story was born of the Dirty Loki Whispers. I’ll confess it now, I like them. Sue me. But they sparked some whispers of their own in my mind. So I began writing them down and realized…they weren’t Loki. The delightful whispers came from a medieval prince, Crispin. He soon became a frequent resident of my thoughts and thus his story demanded to be told.

I am at his mercy…and I like it. Don’t send help.

How does my work differ from others of its genre?

I have no idea. I’d like to think I’m unique. Most romantic erotica or general erotica stories have a contemporary setting. Mine…well, not so much. I gravitate toward historical. I think that sets my stories apart.

While I try to be historically accurate, I do take artistic license. Isn’t that the point of fiction though? *grins*

Why do I write what I do?

I like romance, I love sex, and I’m passionate about writing. So why not combine all three and write what I would WANT to read. Plus it’s illegal to kidnap people and force them to act out your fantasies. So there’s that conundrum. *teasing* Don’t take life too seriously, you’ll never get out alive.

In all honesty, I write what my characters tell me to write. A spark, an idea takes root and I let it grow, shaping it into something precious and unique. It’s a curse some times, having all those characters inhabit your brain, fighting for your attention. And to make it worse, my sexy imagination often takes things to the next level. Is it hot in here? Oh no, that’s just my characters plotting their next tryst. *giggles*

How does my writing process work?

What works for me is just sitting my butt in the chair and writing. I do writing sprints with prompts to get my brain in gear. I also enjoy writing with other writers while on Skype. It forces me to be productive, and they hold me accountable. Sometimes whips are involved.

I do use a basic outline, so I have a general direction for the story. But I allow a lot of free reign for my characters to show me their journey. When I let them speak, it often comes out more naturally than if I try to strong arm them into compliance. Crispin is often amused by my attempts to dominate him.

Ultimately, I wish I could write more and at a faster pace, but I’m truly blessed with the small community of writer’s I’ve surrounded myself with because they push me to constantly improve my craft.


You can find my group here:


We also have a page of writing prompts that post daily: