The following is an excerpt from THE DARK PROVINCE: SON OF DUPRIN:

I stood not far from the entrance as I watched Tjoldana remove her coat and place it neatly in the closet on a small hanger. My anxiety only accelerated to find she was wearing only sparse undergarments underneath—a black finely netted covering up top that was deliberately translucent with a matching piece on her full hips covering only the most critical area in front and disappearing between two rightly present symbols of her curvaceous health behind her.

Brothers and sisters, allow me to be straightforward; this woman’s body sloped and turned curves in ways that would put a master sculptor in a wheelchair for the duration of his lifetime. As hard as I tried, I couldn’t take my eyes off how her tight waist exploded gracefully to a set of hips. Though paired, each hip could stand alone as sufficient on most of the women I knew. What was amazing about it was there was no trace of indulgence or gluttony of any type. It was this woman’s body’s nature to be full and push the boundaries of her shape out into the spaces beside and behind her. And with all of her firm blessings around her waist and hips, still, the Goddess spared no expense when endowing her chest.

Tjoldana was a full deck of cards.

After taking a moment to proudly show off her wares, she seemed almost to laugh softly to herself. I suppose it was clear that I was overwhelmed. Her small laugh seemed to yield a trace of pity. But pitiful or not, I was set to be the subject of some very advanced affection. Advanced, I feared, well beyond my qualifications, let alone the threshold of my convictions.

“Tell me your richest fantasy,” she whispered, stalking toward me as a spider might her prey.

“Fantasy?” I replied in broken speech as I felt the unfortunate need to swallow several times as she drew near.

“Yes. Surely you had one in mind when you selected me over my fair comrade.”

“No, actually,” I squeaked back at her, “I chose you because the aggression in your comrade’s eyes looked intimidating, and I feared certain injury.” My single-witted reply seemed to draw a smile from Tjoldana, and she paused in her amusement. I hoped it might buy me time to strategize a way out of my predicament.

“You’re very intuitive,” she said with an amused inflection. “D’ is … well, she engages her partners with a sort of tunnel vision; she is a poor improviser. She knows what she wants and doesn’t deviate. I, on the other hand, want to know what you want. Tell me so I may bring your fantasies out of the prison of your mind and unfold them upon your skin.”

Tjoldana placed her hands on my clothed chest and began descending them toward my waist. Her solid brown eyes defined her state of presence—how they held on me patiently awaiting my commands. I had none. All I had was a dreadfully quickened heart rate and rapid breaths to provide accompaniment.

The game had begun.

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