All Books

NirvanaI used to write darkness. Now I live it.My fantasies were only words — until I cast masked strangers to act them out. But one of them wasn’t acting. He didn’t follow my script.He rewrote it.Now the man I hired is the one tying me down, dragging pleasure from pain, and whispering promises that sound like threats.And I can’t stop begging for more.BlakeShe wanted masked men to play monsters.I didn’t need the mask.I learned everything about her — her habits, her secrets, her scent, the way her breath caught when she came.She thinks she created me for her story.But I was always real.She just gave me permission to make her mine.And I don’t share. Not on camera. Not in fantasy. Not ever.She was never directing this.She was mine from the first word.Off Script — where desire devours the page.