A WICKED CHRISTMAS 1870
(Wicked Christmas #2)
by Nia Farrell
Release Date December 15, 2018. Length: 11,904 words.
FREE with Kindle Unlimited.
In this holiday novelette, sculptor Elena Davenport Wainwright prepares to celebrate her art studio’s second open house and her third Christmas with her husbands Edward Wainwright and Daniel O’Flaherty.
While working on her larger-than-life statue of Achilles, Patroclus, and Briseis, a fainting spell sends Elena tumbling from the scaffolding. Daniel breaks her fall, but the episode makes them all wonder at the cause. The doctor lists a number of potential suspects, including bone break fever, parasites, and a baby. The possibility of contracting a disease is as disturbing as the possibility of pregnancy, but how will Elena know?
Maybe she should call in her Romani herbalist for an intuitive medical consultation.
Although written as a standalone, your enjoyment will be enhanced if you have read As Wicked as You Want (named one of The 50 Best Indie Books of 2016, voted #1 erotica and #10 overall) and A Wicked Christmas 1869, a sizzling holiday short story.
Historical MMF ménage erotic BDSM romance, a steamy novelette written for Ages 18+.
Lucy helped me into the striped blue silk dress that was Edward’s favorite and arranged my hair, coiling it at the back of my head and securing it with pins and a pair of jeweled dragonfly combs. Adding pearls at my throat and a pair of earbobs, my transformation was complete.
Daniel was waiting in the hall to escort me downstairs for dinner. Edward’s cook Babs had outdone herself. The soup was savory. The beef was fork-tender, the vegetables were tender-crisp, and dessert was to die for.
Paddy had two servings. I envied him his constitution. He could eat all he wanted and never gain a pound of fat, only muscle. But then, he worked hard, too. At the studio and in the morning regimen that the three of us maintained. Sculpting was a very physical pursuit. My work required me to be as fit as a field hand.
The men, of course, were great admirers of my form. They could not wait to take me upstairs, undo all of Lucy’s work, and get me naked as Venus rising from the sea.
Edward hooked my wrapper on his finger, found the shoulders, and held it open for me. He might be a hedonist, but I drew the line at traipsing nude through the halls when Young Frank’s duties included tending the attic boiler. Babs’s son was an affable, dependable, impressionable young man. I did not wish to frighten him away. If he chose to stay in our service, no doubt he would get an education.
Tonight, there would be no corruption of his youth.
The three of us wore robes to the third-floor room that Edward had transformed into an indoor sexual park that we referred to as our play room. Here, we played hard and fucked harder. Our Master’s collection of “toys”—instruments and aids—was ever increasing.
As soon as the door closed behind us, I shrugged off my wrapper and dropped to my knees. Daniel did the same, taking his place beside me. We waited, wordless, to see what Edward desired.
Tonight, it was both of us.