Spicy Booktok Fanart Novels & Stories

The shade sticker read Crimson Vow, and someone had tied a narrow rose-gold ribbon around it with suspicious care. I stared at it. Then translucent comments slid across my vision, like live reactions on a serialized romance app. [@BookTokAfterDark: Oh, she has no idea what that lipstick does.] [@SteamQueen: I can smell the spice from here. I am seated.] [@KindleKiller: He really put his weak spot in a velvet box. Sir.] [@RomanceGremlin: Buckle up. This is about to get messy in the best way.] I almost dropped the box.

Greetings to all my wonderful readers! As you've likely noticed, I have actual artwork of my characters for the cover of my book now. This was a commission I paid for from a very dear artist friend by the name of Rydi on DeviantART also known as lucia-garcia on ArtCorgi. We've known each other for a long time now, and I was super happy she gave me permission to use the old commissions in this way, so if you like her style, feel free to check her out.

TBC Note: Hi guys! Guess what? I have opened a F******k page to interact with my readers under the name "Summer Starr" I'm currently in the process of changing my pen name. Follow and like the page to interact with me, as I will be releasing pictures of how each characters look, chapter highlights and so much. You can even get update about my previous and new book. See you there.

Sebastian’s POV I felt a woman’s hand slowly sliding up my leg toward my groin. I downed the last shot of my beer. Spartan was packed tonight—full of people hyped up and dancing like crazy. It wasn’t even midnight yet, but the place was already wild. Bodies grinding, music blasting, and everyone chasing alcohol, pleasure, and a good lay. A tingling sensation shot through me. The woman was rubbing my half-hard dick now. I quickly caught her hand to stop her. She looked shocked for a second, confused why I stopped her, but then that confusion melted into a wicked smile.

“Just do your thing; what is your name, please? “Pardon my manners; I didn't introduce myself properly. My name is Spicy, and I am the only makeup artist in New York who can add spice to your makeup glam. You can follow me on I*******m at @spicy_hott. I wanted to tell Spicy that I didn't have an I*******m account but then I decided to keep quiet because who doesn't have an I*******m account in the 21st century? Spicy was preparing his makeup items, and I was just looking around. I loved the space and how coordinated everything was. I wish I could have a room full of makeup items like this but that is literally impossible because of my kids. I'll just come back one day and find them coloring

He found my lips again as he slowly unbuttoned my pants. “I am going to make you wash that dirty mouth of yours.” He carried me over and laid me on the desk as my pants were being ripped off and leaving me in my laced panties. “I love when they match.” He whispered. He ripped his shirt off his back and man he was ripped. He ran his palm from my chest down to my stomach as he found my sweet spot and moved them to the side before indulging himself in my sweet spot. His tongue met my beat and completely soaked my panties that were still on me. I didn’t think anything could be so great. He eventually slid them off me before getting back to town and not before he slipped his middle finger in me c

The next chapter will be spicy (⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧ Please enjoy (^⁠‿⁠^⁠) ser feliz 🌹

I've missed them a lot! Please check out my other book, "Spirals:Tattoo in my mind" while you wait. Thanks a lot for understanding 😊 ~~ Love Marvy-dee

DO CHECK OR ADD OTHER BOOKS OF THE AUTHOR… *REVENGE ON THE MAFIA LORD *JUST ONE MONTH *THE LYCANS SIN YOU CAN ALSO CHECK MY I*******M PAGE, TO SEE THE APPEARANCE OF YOUR FAVORITE CHARACTERS,TO MAKE READING MORE FUN, PLEASE FOLLOW ME ALSO, IT'S A NEW ACCOUNT… I*******M @Vee_wr_ites. LOVE AUTHOR BLU~VEE.

Yam sliced it open slowly, hands trembling. Inside was their book. “The Art of Staying.” Cover: a sunflower. A crooked shelf. Two mugs—one chipped. And behind it all, the suggestion of a fan, mid-spin. Franc stared at it like it might whisper back. “Feels unreal,” Yam said. Franc flipped through pages. Some with artwork. Others with Yam’s poetry. Their story—wired beginnings and all—now bound in matte finish. “I think this book breathes,” Franc said.