A HARDCORE preview of Destruction by Jennifer Bene

Some of you know may possibly know I absolutely am in love with Jennifer Bene’s books and her newest one, Destruction, is out NOW on Amazon!

Isn’t the cover INCREDIBLE?

Destruction Jennifer Bene

Here’s the blurb:

Vengeance and destruction are all he has left.

Lianna Mercier has everything. She’s beautiful, well-educated, her father is rich, powerful — and she works for him. The perfect little princess, raised to be just like daddy.

But it’s all a lie.

A bloody, fucked up lie, and David Gethen is about to tear it all down and destroy Lianna in the process. He wants revenge, he wants to finish the plan his father started years ago — but after he takes her, after he tortures her, he begins to realize just how wrong he may have been.

 

Here’s what people are already saying about it:

“This is so beautifully fucked up.” – Niki, ARC reader

“I just finished Destruction. I don’t know how you do it! Every freakin time you make my insides curl in on themselves and then slap me in the back of my knees. Congrats you did it again. Marvelous writing!!!” – Gabriela, ARC reader

“Loved the story! Read it right through in one sitting!” – Terri, ARC reader

 

And here’s a juicy as fuck excerpt from the book:

Lianna

Hours passed as she slipped back and forth in trains of thought without progress before he finally returned. The man wore his anger like a dark aura, somehow invisible and obvious, but the slamming of the door and the rapid rise and fall of his chest had been more than enough warning.

Her father had missed another deadline.

There was no phone call, no belt, no threats, just him as he stood over her and she bit down on the inside of her cheek.

Eventually, he sat on the mattress beside her just as he had when he’d chained her down, only this time he was completely silent. His eyes moved over her first, then his hand, tracing her skin, leaving shivers in his wake, like a tiger playing with his food.

Don’t…” she whispered on a breath as his fingers slid between her thighs, but he didn’t even pause. Thick digits slid inside her, and her hips tilted, back arching as she whined.

Still wet enough for him to move back and forth, to summon more liquid heat, to drag it to her clit and grind the bundle of nerves until she was twisting against the chains.

This was slow torture. His silence, the never-ending assault of unwanted pleasure, turning her own body against her until she had to choke off the subtle moans. Pressure was building inside her, tightening, careening her toward another shameful orgasm and those fucking eyes were on her. Watching, waiting for it.

Just as her hips started to lift, as the wet sounds from between her thighs invaded her ears, as the tension in her muscles threatened to snap — he stopped.

Her breathing came hard, nails digging painfully into her palms, and she felt tears prick her eyes as his fingers slid free. Behind the mask he was breathing just as hard, rigid muscles moving over his ribs as they expanded and contracted.

Then he positioned himself between her thighs and urgency took over his movements. Tearing at his zipper, shoving his pants down, he ripped open a condom wrapper. Cock in hand, he slid it on, abandoning the shiny foil wrapper beside them and she looked away.

“Please?” Lianna begged, whimpering, knowing it was useless and trying to prepare as he lined up and thrust deep in one smooth stroke.

For those first movements she craned her head back, staring at her bound wrists, at the wall behind her, refusing to look as he groaned and stretched her. Her body rocked, the chains clattering softly in the silence, and she felt how wet she was. It was too easy, every pinning thrust, and as he wrapped his hands around her shoulders and drove in harder she did her best to turn the moan into a cry.

This doesn’t feel good.

I don’t want this.

His knees moved out, digging into her thighs to stretch her further, ankles straining at the chains, and then he found a new angle. One that stroked his thick cock against a point inside that made her back arch, hips twitching to seek more. She gasped, unable to stop the moan, and found herself looking into his eyes. Face hovering over hers, she stared into the black fabric of the mask, something smooth overlaying a hard shell. Obscuring all his features, all of them except for his eyes, and as he stretched her again she watched his eyelids flutter closed as he groaned low. A hard snap of his hips caught her by surprise and she moaned again, louder, cursing herself as she bit down on her lip, but the damage had been done.

He started to move faster, muscles shifting in his arms and chest and abs as he drove himself deeper inside her. A keening whine escaped between clenched teeth, and she pulled on the cuffs at her wrists, meeting his eyes again to plead. “Don’t do this to me. Please.”

* * *

David

The girl felt like heaven underneath him. Soft skin, smooth curves, and her cunt was so slick, so tight. Even with the condom he was tempted to come already, but he wanted more. More of her cries, her sweet begging as she gripped him and squirmed against the mattress.

Her eyes were so fucking blue, and it made him pause as he thrust deep, feeling the tremors in her thighs, the subtle shift of her hips as she unconsciously sought her orgasm. He hadn’t been this close to her, close enough to kiss her reddened lips, to taste her mouth, to see the hints of green in her irises that made it look like staring into the clearest ocean water.

Reaching up he slid his fingers into her hair and snapped her head back, causing her to shut those bottomless eyes and clench his cock inside her. The soft cry of pleasure and pain was one he knew too well, and it made him hungry for more.

Something woke up in the cold, something that wanted to devour the pampered little princess whole, and with all his mental processing power located below his hips he didn’t care to fight it. “Take it,” he hissed above her as he forced her head back, exposing her throat as he started to fuck her hard.

Everything blurred as she begged, cried out, pleaded with him between moans and whimpers. But all he cared about was the way her limbs contracted, the way her hips lifted, back bowing off the mattress so that her nipples grazed his chest, and the all consuming grip of her cunt around him. It was torture of the best kind to hold back, to wait, to tease her with the strokes that made her make the sweetest sounds. The little gasps that were pure pleasure.

Please…” she moaned, and he could have sworn she was begging for more as her hips met his with a clap of skin. He wanted to reach down and bend her knees to her chest, but the cuffs were holding her down, keeping her spread.

Next time, he promised himself as he braced the arm gripping her hair and slid his other hand between them. Lifting up just enough to find her clit he worked himself inside her and rubbed. Her blonde brows pulled together, face pinching in a way that almost looked like pain, and then she panted, moaned, hips moving with each swirl of his thumb — and she came.

Hard.

Gripping him in a way that sent a surge of heat down his spine, melting the ice as he braced his other arm beside her and listened to her fall apart.

“No, no, no,” she whispered against his ear and he smiled behind the mask, thrusting hard again. Finding that rhythm that had her making sweet, pained sounds once more. She was too perfect. An angel fallen to earth, and he had her chained to the floor, but she felt too fucking good to care about the damnation he’d already assured himself.

Moving inside her was something he wished he could memorize, to feel forever. Like this. Slick, wet, trembling, and softly moaning as he worked them both to the edge this time. The demon inside him was howling, the chains clanking against the brackets in the floor as he fucked her hard enough to shift the mattress, and then he was gone. Fire stroking down his spine, balls tightening, as he came with a fierce roar.

The world went white for a split second, ears deaf, body crushing her softness as pure ecstasy blasted everything away. She was heaven, nirvana, and Shangri-La all rolled into one.

Perfect, but not innocent.

***

Are you fanning yourself yet? Get Destruction here on Amazon!

An excerpt from Rescued by the Woodsman

So I just released a new short (long short) story, entitled Rescued by the Woodsman. It’s book one in a series called Darkholm, set in a world I’ve been hesitating over writing about for almost a year. I kept telling myself not to, because I have been categorically told there’s no market for the concept, but then this story sort of wrote itself last week, while I was in Shanghai.

I self-published Rescued by the Woodsman on Monday morning, after deliberating over expanding it out into a longer story, because it seemed to fit 12,500 words perfectly, so it’s not the right length to send to a publisher. So, instead, I made it free here on Instafreebie.

On top of that, it’s written in the same universe as my single worst-selling book to date (Sharing the Princess). There are a few things that wouldn’t work in any other story world. As well as that, the content of Rescued by the Woodsman is pretty dark, so all in all, I decided self-publishing the Darkholm series was my best plan, although it’s not the super-dark WIP that I’m currently writing; that’s also on its way. The idea for this dark fantasy series has been at the back of my mind for a while, however. I also haven’t put it on Amazon for the time being. I thought about it, and decided I’ll see how it does on Instafreebie, then I’ll maybe put it on Amazon at a later date, when the next book in the series is released. Maybe.

Sharing the Princess isn’t quite part of this series, but it’s set in another kingdom (called Dovedalethorpe. Rescued by the Woodsman, and the next book, Shared by the Beasts, take place in Darkholm) in the same world as Rescued by the Woodsman. 

Do you like the cover? I am really pleased with how it came out, although I can see that there’s room for improvement.

Here’s an excerpt, and the blurb and a free download link are both below it:

Emmett Hartley had watched the young redheaded witch as she made her daisy chain. Since he came out here regularly with his axe, he knew her by sight, although they had never spoken. Sometimes, he saw her crying, and wondered what an evil sorcerer possibly needed to cry over. Witches had killed his mother, and he had sworn if he ever saw a witch he would kill it.

He hadn’t gone near the girl yet, though. Something about her reminded him of the gazelle he hunted sometimes with his cousin Benadrin, when he visited him in the kingdom of Dovedale. The big, soulful, green eyes had the look of one who knew they were prey, and who saw the hunter’s arrow hurtling toward their heart. She never settled, even when she was occupied with a task. Then, every so often, she would pause, staring off into the distance, before dropping everything, waving a hand and teleporting away. He didn’t know how she did that. Now, he went to where she’d been playing with flowers, but all he found were the destroyed remnants of the daisy chain she’d been making.

There was a mystery there, and while she clearly used witchcraft and therefore was his mortal enemy, she was still so young. He knew that one day she would be older and stronger, and would probably kill him, but he simply couldn’t bring himself to take her life. She was barely an adult.

He sighed and ran his hand over the stubble on his square jaw, finding no useful information to explain where she went or why she’d been tearful. Instead, he occupied himself with looking for a good tree to fell.

A Will-O’-The-Wisp fluttered into his path. He paused, knowing they led people to their doom. It hovered near him, waiting. The creatures were fey folk who had been cast out, and now they scoured the world for remnants of fairy dust dropped by other fey. This one didn’t have the wild eyes or the shredded wings of the others Emmett had seen.

“Begone!” he grumbled.

It beckoned to him. He threw a stone at it. Hateful magical creatures, haranguing him in every direction. It continued to hover. When he stepped toward it, it moved away, but as soon as he returned to his task, it was back.

With a sigh, he heaved his axe over his shoulder and followed the Will-O’-The-Wisp. He’d never seen one behave like this before, and all things considered, it was probably something else under a spell or geas. This was why he detested magic. It confused everything and created mysteries where there didn’t need to be any.

He really hoped he didn’t need to kiss a frog.

Continuing after the Will-O’-The-Wisp, he found himself going into a part of the forest he’d never thought of as interesting. Everything in his brain told him to stay out, to turn back, that nothing good ever came of being here. The trees seemed mostly dead, and charred. The static stench of evil witchcraft filled his nostrils.

Adjusting his grip on his axe, he stepped through a wall of trees, and found an abandoned, ruined tower surrounded by a high fence. The Will-O’-The-Wisp wasn’t done, however, and it flew to the twisted iron gate, then reached out its tiny hand and touched it. The gate sparked for a moment, and the Will-O’-The-Wisp jumped back, as though shocked. Emmett stepped closer, and the creature flew through the opening in the gate.

Emmett followed, and frowned. The garden of the tower had looked like it was overgrown with ivy, nettles, dandelions and tall thistles from the outside. Green things. Now, however, he saw only twisted, dead roots, grasping out of the ground like hands trying to escape the underworld. He turned to the gate and pushed a stone against it, so it couldn’t close on him. Emmett had no intention of getting trapped in this place. Clearly, foul magic was afoot. Why the Will-O’-The-Wisp had brought him here, he had no idea, but this might be a nest of witches, and he didn’t know if he’d ever get another opportunity like this to strike a blow against them.

Tiptoeing around the side of the tower, which didn’t seem to have a door, he watched a wizened old man in a black robe being followed extremely reluctantly by the girl who’d made the daisy chain. He spoke some words, then indicated for the girl to sit in a chair. With a lurch of horror, Emmett realized it was a ducking chair, of the sort used for killing witches. Why did he care what one witch did to another, though? Surely it meant one fewer for him to deal with later.

“Do you have perfect trust, Eskara?” The man asked, grinning. He was pure evil, and Emmett didn’t think anyone in their right mind ought to trust him.

“Y-y-y-yes, master,” she stammered. Eskara. Her name was Eskara. Nothing about her reminded Emmett of any of the other witches he’d seen. Even the younger ones were usually arrogant, over-confident, fake-nice, and far too self-assured. But she was something else. Was she even a witch?

“Hmmm… we shall see, won’t we?” The old man spun the wooden beam around, and plunged Eskara into the water. Her terrified eyes met Emmett’s for a split second, and his heart wrenched.

What would fix this? He gripped his axe, and went toward the man quietly, ready to fight him. Apparently, the man had eyes in the back of his head, because he waved a hand and suddenly Emmett was thrown back twenty feet. Every time Emmett ran to the girl, he was thrown back again. It was impossible.

***

And here’s the blurb:

Darkholm 1: Rescued by the Woodsman:

Eskara has been enslaved to the evil warlock Garamond for the last three years, and tonight, on her eighteenth birthday, she is doomed to become a sacrifice for one of Garamond’s spells. She doesn’t want to die, but she is resigned to her fate.

Until Emmett steals her away, that is. The hot, gruff woodcutter doesn’t know why he’s drawn to the young witch, but when he sees an evil old man trying to kill her, he has to intervene. Emmett inadvertently claims Eskara, and he has to consummate before the sun goes down or they both die. But when Garamond uses his great power to steal Eskara away again, how can Emmett ensure Eskara is safe, permanently?

Note: This is a standalone M/F short story in the same universe as Sharing the Princess, but it’s darker. The bad guy is a complete bastard. This story contains much unpleasantness. If you prefer Katie’s softer writing, this one is probably not for you!

If you want to read the rest, it’s FREE and EXCLUSIVE to Instafreebie right now! Even if you’re already signed up to my newsletter, come on over and grab a free copy as a thank-you for all your support! 😘 Get it here!

The URL is here, if you want to share it: https://www.instafreebie.com/free/fatFm