Dana Stabenow Books Novels & Stories

But then the next two days had found him leaning against his bike at the school entrance, eagerly waiting for her. “Fuck my life,” She buried herself into one of her books, a loud groan leaving her lips. Why was she groaning? She was at one of those steamy scenes again. It was night time and she was sure her parents were already asleep. Roman? Well, he would be doing whatever he usually did. Completely oblivious to the different sultry thoughts running through her mind as she read the book. Her mind began wandering to the curl of his biceps, those eyes that seemed capable of reading her to pure filth, and the first time he’d fully called out her name.

Simply belted her robe loosely and led him—naked, collared, ringed, aching—through the silent house. The basement stairs were narrow, stone. The air grew cooler, damper. At the bottom, a heavy iron door. She unlocked it with an old-fashioned key from around her neck. Inside: a fully equipped dungeon. Chains hanging from the ceiling. Padded benches. Wall of implements—floggers, paddles, canes, dildos in graduated sizes. A St. Andrew’s cross. A cage large enough for a man to kneel in. And on a low table: Harlan’s journals—dozens of them.

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Please email me if you have any questions or concerns. Best regards, Natasha Collins Editorial Staff] A huge grin appeared on Dawn’s face. There was also another email from them regarding the other books that she had written. According to them, it has also been selling well. The books: ‘Rebirth Without Shame’ and ‘Vow Of The Stars’ have also done well. Lisa Holloway, the Illustrator, had also sent her a draft of the illustrated version of her first book. Dawn checked every page and was satisfied with her work.

“Hey… about what you saw earlier.” She jumped, clutching the book to her chest. “I—I didn’t see anything. I swear. I won’t tell anyone.” I smiled softly and stepped even closer, backing her gently against the shelves. “Relax. Professor Harlan and I… we have an understanding. But I saw how you looked at us. You didn’t run away because you were scared. You ran because it turned you on, didn’t it?” Her cheeks burned brighter. She shook her head quickly. “No… that’s not… I’m not—”

Give him a piece of paper, and he could build the Eiffel Tower. “He has. We also just bought Gabe a children’s book about a snail, it’s called Escargot. It’s pretty funny, about a French snail who slithers up a picnic table. But now I can’t kill the little buggers with Gabe trailing my every move—and they’re eating my precious garden.” Lizzy poked her in the arm. “Maybe you can do a snail relocation to a nearby hiking spot. Give Gabe a bucket for a mass gathering.” That made her friend laugh.