Possessing Wilde


Hello beautiful readers, Possessing Wilde is now available to download and read! This is Book Two of a Wilde Series (there are three books total).

After proclaiming their love for one another in the Big Apple on Christmas Day, then consummating shortly after (of course), Adele Vega and Clarence Wilde have a new hurdle that is no longer the previous student-teacher issue … distance.

Not to worry, three hours one way is nothing in the name of love.

But what of the rich, young, model good-looking, intelligent, French speaking Celine? And what will happen when Clarence moves in with Celine and her family to learn the ropes of the book selling industry? Or when Adele realizes it is she who Celine is after?

Click HERE if you’d like to read!! As always, let me know what you think on Amazon, or feel free to send me an email through HERE.

xo Elizabeth

To F <3 (et) Back


HELLO Loves!

I’m back.

From where?

A foreign country (you might be able to guess) …

More naughty books, sensual words, and sweet kisses to come …

PLUS exciting news coming soon regarding a certain book of mine that will be free to download for a very short period of time …

Apologies for the brief absence!

xo Elizabeth

Who is your muse?

Thoughts, Writing

I write for you, muse.

Play on, invisible harps, play on in my heart

Please visit me muse, ache of love.

I cannot go on without you,

Do not die, my unrequited muse

Dante Alighieri & Beatrice di Folco Portinari

Do not leave me muse and come back

Elizabeth Taylor & Richard Burton

Do not love the image of us, the muse, more than the reality

Jean-Luc Godard & Anna Karina

You, my wonder wild we kiss

Sweetheart, I come.



Is it possible to love the person you haven’t met yet? In most cases you don’t know who they are, only that they exist, and more likely than not, in a far away land, because that is how the Universe works; it makes you work for good things in life, and love is no exception. Nothing ever comes easy, does it? At least nothing that is worth it.

And what about Time? Does Time allow the two of you to meet before it is too late? Of course Time does, as there is all the Time in the world. But then Time’s relative named Circumstance comes in to play; Circumstance gets in the way by sending other people to float around the ether of your world to distract you from the pearl in the east–the pearl being your love.

Do not worry, Serendipity will overrule and bring you two together when least expected. Eventually, that is. Are you willing to wait? I am.

XXX from Possessing Wilde

books, Writing


A sliver of light streams out as the door begins to open. I push through the opening and lock the door behind me. 

“What do you think you’re—”

I maneuver Adele against the wall, my hips pinning her there. She tries to move me away, but I push my weight harder against her.

“I don’t even know you,” she says in a quiet, almost mistrusting tone, just as a lone hitchhiker would sound like when sliding onto the passenger seat next to a stranger in a truck. 

Initially I was afraid that she would either scold me on my stupid attempt at this game of pretend, admit that she didn’t understand what I was doing, or declare that I was shit crazy; but as I secretly watched her watching me from behind the bookcases, I knew that she wanted to play. 

“All the better.” 

I lift her light body off the floor and slide her along the white tiled wall in-between the toilet and sink. 

She bites at my lips before we have a chance to kiss. I allow her to nibble and taste the skin, devouring my lower lip as if it were a succulent fruit. She sucks on it just the way she uses her mouth on my cock. 

Now it is time I have my way with her: I crush my lips onto hers and thrust my tongue into her mouth. She moves her head to the side so that her teeth sink into my neck.

La putain,” I say into her ear. She moans in response, though I know she doesn’t know what I said; she moans for my accent. “Whore.” 

“Fuck you.” Her hand lightly slaps my face, but hard enough so that I feel a burning sensation. It is thrilling to feel the pain in contrast to the pleasure of holding her and kissing. 

Va te faire foutre? Basie moi.”

Her hands dig in my hair. I pull the ends of hers lightly at first, then a harder tug after she commands for me to keep speaking. 

Je vais te baiser si fort que tu crieras dans cette salle de bain.”

I lift her dress from the hem, and spank one of the sides of her bare buttocks. Her skin is hot and sweaty; I’d want it no other way. 

Pas de culotte? Le scandale.”

Her fingers attempt to unzip me while she grinds her hips against mine. I take her trembling hand and place it inside my pants so that she can feel for herself how big and firm I am; how only she can make me this way. 

Sens moi.” 

Her hand automatically strokes it—but ah! I am more than ready to come. I must hold on. 

Je suis ton élève—apprends moi.” 

My sexual hunger rises, blinding me. I am unable to wait for more strokes and more kisses. I must feel the inside of her sex, to consume her inside and out.

She kisses me as if drinking my mouth, my tongue, my throat—drinking me alive! My hands press marks into the tops of her thighs and the sides of her buttocks, mauling them, mimicking what my mouth would be doing if she were sitting on top of my face. 

I scramble to get my cock out from the top of my undone pants. I lead it to Adele’s wet yearning pussy, which drips onto the tip, enveloping like honey. I push the entirety of my member inside, and a tiny yelp of pain escapes from her parted lips. She hugs herself closer into my body, forcing my cock to brush against her womb. I look down at the light tan color of my cock pulling out of her snow white pussy. Her breath hastens as I push back in; I pull out right away, only to hear her little pleas and cries for it to come back. Tiny sucking sounds expel between my cock and her pussy as I pump. The little hard button of her clit rubs into my pubic hair and against my skin.

A rapping on the door. 


“Fuck,” Adele breathes out. “Someone’s out there.” 

“Be out,” I start saying, then quickly becoming distracted as I pound Adele’s pussy much harder than before, “… in a minute.” 

I push Adele’s wrists above her head, pinning them to the wall while holding on to one side of her hip. 

“Moan for me, Adele,” I say in a hoarse, crazed manner that is unlike my normal voice. 

“But they—”

“Never mind them. Come on me.”

She closes her eyes and I quicken my thrusting.

The sound that I’ve come to love and need—her moaning—fills the room as I feel her pussy spasming on my cock. Her orgasm is surely heard by all standing outside of this tiny bathroom, and quite possibly by all in the bookshop.  

My orgasm is so very strong that I feel as though I’ll go insane—that I will crumple to the floor any second now. I continue pumping my cum into her long after we’ve both finished. 

Finally, but most unfortunately, my softened, spent cock slides out from her. My hand lightly touches her slick pussy—the wettest I have ever felt—which I never knew until now that there could be such a state of being. 

I take her body away from the wall, and she remains attached to my hips. We melt as our tongues meet for the ending of this overture.



The root behind muses

creation of sweet nothings

taste of licorice dimple candy striped

mocha in the morning, your

essence wakes every part

meet me for coffee

morning at dawn

I long to cook meals hip-to-hip


trembling, an ache for the touch of your smile, grazing ankles

in bed

can we live forever in bed?

Inside looks, inside jokes, insides stories, inside


you care. A single care.

Amongst countless beings,

all distant pasts.

what makes my panties wet

books, Thoughts, Writing

Don’t get me wrong, I hold great respect for romance writers, and needless to say, all writers no matter the genre–especially self-published (how many hats do we take on?) I love the passion of readers, and I also know how difficult it is to publish prolifically like many authors I’ve seen consistently pull off week after week, month after month, year after year. You (author) are SO inspiring to me! You help me to aspire to work even harder at my craft (alongside the inspiration and genius of the literary greats, but that’s another blog post).

Specifically in the romance/erotic romance genre, I’ve noticed a trend that I don’t exactly understand what the mass appeal of it is (and I can only assume it started with books featuring Fabio on the cover, and a certain number of Shades of you know which color) …

The trend is: alpha male (dominant man who knows how to get what he wants, is outspoken, confident, generally non-emotional, usually is a CEO with a billion dollars, and after much contention with his machismo inner turmoil, only melts at the knees of the woman he has conquered), and his submissive female counterpart (there’s never a female billionaire CEO, usually she isn’t that interesting, and if she isn’t completely submissive, it is made clear that she is definitely more meek in comparison to the man, made most apparently by her following his lead).

I get it. Write for your audience, right? Why change what works, especially in such a defined genre? I understand that a large number of readers of this genre read this particular genre to ESCAPE (I mean, why else is a HEA even a thing?) And that’s fine–again, I get it. Hey! I like happy endings. I also like endings that make sense, be it happy or not. I also understand that sometimes The Sound and the Fury just isn’t good airplane or bedtime reading material.

But as writers, why can’t we occasionally–if not usually–challenge ourselves and our readers by defying stereotypes in order to pave a path for new stories, characters, and tropes?

Here’s a question: am I the only one who gets wet over a sensitive, intelligent, shy, and physically imperfect (not made of muscles and/or no perfectly sculpted mountain man beard), yet cute, man? Or how about a confident, smart, headstrong, beautiful (still not physically perfect), well-read woman who has a potty mouth and enjoys a good fuck?

When I wrote Taking Wilde, my goal was to satisfy what romance/erotic romance readers expect, while also (hopefully) defying expectations and transcending what it means to escape into a world of relationships, love, work, drama, and sex (within the context of a slightly absurd premise). I wrote a novella that I would be interested in reading; I love reading about SEX, I love LOVE, and I really enjoy REAL PEOPLE.

Cara Delevigne and David Kross were my muses for the two main characters in Taking Wilde. Delevingne and Kross are hot in my opinion, but not for the most obvious reason (physicality). There’s something strong, witty, and zero-fucks-given in Delevigne that is a turn on. And what isn’t adorable about Kross? His humble and seemingly shy demeanor alone makes me melt. Oh, do tell me you’ve seen/read The Reader.

Why can’t we all try it? Something new. Who knows … maybe one of these days I’ll take on the alpha male-submissive female challenge. Perhaps I was on my way to doing so with 40-Love.

Quick Thoughts on Bi-Sexuality

Thoughts, Writing

In my next book Possessing Wilde (now available to pre-order), subjects include bi-sexuality and a ménage à trois.

Personally, I identify as bi-sexual, and I fully realize the stigmas that occur when you even tell someone that you are bi (what, she’s so horny that she can’t just choose a gender and stick with it? Oh, this just must be a phase. (Trust me, I’ve heard both of those)).

Unfortunately, bi-sexuality (like any sexual orientation outside of heteronormativity) comes with many stereotypes, including (but certainly not limited to): promiscuity, fickleness, and indecisiveness.

I really am not PC, I just want my readers and any others who are reading this to know that it is not my intention to paint individuals who identify as bi as these sex-craved people who engage in a ménage à trois as regularly as drinking water. This event just happens to be a part of Possessing Wilde (I think it’s hot, sexy, and adds to the story).

My characters represent an assortment of sexual orientations: Clarence is heterosexual, Adele previously identified as heterosexual (after meeting Celine, she realizes she doesn’t really want to be labeled as anything), and Celine is bi-sexual.

Whatever you identify as–whether it be heterosexual, bi-sexual, homosexual, pansexual, a-sexual, sexual fluidity, and any other sexual orientations I am missing–it’s all good! Have fun, and be you.