Sci-Fi, Futuristic Romance
Date Published: November 8, 2024
Janet's orgasms are earth-shattering. At least they are when she's Dreaming
in the Zodiac, a virtual reality world created by Dr. Archer Tate. The
problem is that, technically, a system shutdown shouldn't be possible,
especially not from a mere cyber-orgasm. Gamely, Janet reveals every
intimate detail of her Dreams for the team's troubleshooting analysis but
several weeks later, the cause of the anomalous malfunction remains a
mystery.
Archer blames Janet for the Zodiac's glitch. He just can't figure out how
she's triggering it. Doesn’t help that listening to her reveal her
lusty Zodiac Dreams, orgasm by orgasm, is driving him insane with lust for
her. For the sake of the project and his sanity, he decides to Dream with
her so he can catch her in the act and put this business to rest.
There's more to Janet's orgasmic Zodiac Dreaming than mere mechanics. It
takes someone who knows Janet's heart as well as her mind and body to create
the disruptive orgasm. When the team psychologist, Liam, insists he's better
suited for the job, Archer realizes he could lose something more precious to
him than Zodiac. Will sharing Janet with Liam solve their problems, or will
he lose her forever?
EXCERPT
Janet Widgeon sauntered into the smoky jazz club, her stiletto heels
clicking on the varnished wood floor. Notes of sweet, sassy blues rolled
down the dimly lit hall to welcome her. She was early, far earlier than she
normally arrived at the Zodiac Club, but pacing in her apartment
hadn’t lessened her anxiety.
Is he as excited about tonight as I am? Is he already here, waiting for
me?
The burly bouncer stationed at the entrance greeted her.
“Evenin’, Miss Janet.” His thin black lips curved slightly
upward as he took in her skintight, siren red dress. High praise coming from
the stoic man.
Though she wore three-inch heels, she had to stretch to kiss the beefy
man’s cheek. “Evening, Trent. How’s the mood
tonight?”
“Hotter than Maria’s gumbo.”
Janet chuckled. “Don’t let her hear you say that, or her next
batch will violate our fire code.”
Trent ducked his head in agreement. “True that.”
She fingered her slim, sequined purse -- it was the same shade as the dress
and shoes -- as she surrendered to her curiosity. “Any messages for
me?”
“None of the friendly sort, if that’s what you’re
asking.” Even in the dim light she could see his brown eyes sparkle
with amusement.
With a nod, she deftly spun on the points of her shoes and headed toward
the bar’s crowded interior.
“Going to your office, Miss, or should I ask one of the girls to
bring a glass of white wine to your table?”
Her gaze roamed the dim interior as she considered her answer.
“I’m far too restless to concentrate on paperwork tonight. I
think I’ll mingle first, and then find a seat when Jim begins his
first set.”
“You have yourself a fine evening then, Miss Janet.”
Janet penetrated the hazy atmosphere where a broad mix of patrons
congregated around small tables in front of the stage. Tonight’s
headlining act was a real coup for the club. Jim Byrnes owned a nightspot in
Vancouver and rarely played anyplace else. How her manager had sweet-talked
him into taking a trip to her little place in bayou country was a secret
that man wasn’t telling.
A relatively new kid on the national jazz scene, Chris Thomas King was
currently warming up the room with good, old-fashioned songs. Janet hummed
along with his rendition of the old Blues classic John Law as she circulated
through the crowd, exchanging pleasantries with old and new friends.
Jim’s name was a big draw, and Janet was pleased to see her staff
keeping up with the clientele’s high demand for fresh, full glasses.
Most of the customers wouldn’t want a meal so late at night, just a
few Cajun snacks to keep the alcohol company. Janet noted that Maria and her
kitchen staff seemed to have those requests under control as well.
There was only one question remaining on her mind. By the time she
completed a full circuit of the room, Janet had that answer too. He’s
not here.
Instead of being disappointed, a tremor of excitement rippled along her
spine. He wasn’t here. Yet. But he would come. She was sure of
it.
Janet signaled for a barmaid to bring over a drink as she sat down at an
empty table, the one reserved for her exclusive use, in a dark corner at the
right edge of the stage. Usually, she invited others to join her, but not
this time. The only person whose company she desired now knew where to find
her -- and would, sometime before the night was over.
It had been exactly a month ago that she’d first met him, a friend of
a friend who shared her fondness for delta blues and late-night
conversation. They’d talked until dawn threatened to cross the line
from speculation to fact. He’d left her with a passionate kiss and a
promise to return the following Saturday.
In fact, he’d come back again and again to the Zodiac Club, never
staying beyond closing, never asking if he could take her home or inviting
her to his place. But after their last encounter, she knew their next
meeting would end differently. The sexual tension between them had hit a
boiling point. Next time, they’d either turn up the heat until their
rising passion was finally given a chance to burn, or they’d shut off
the gas for good.
And now that night had arrived.
Janet sat alone and waited for him to appear through the blues of Chris
Thomas King and then Jim Byrnes’ opening set. She enjoyed both
musicians thoroughly, yet part of her remained aware of the lingering
emptiness beside her.
As Jim’s second set began, Janet succumbed to a trickle of doubt. Had
he forgotten about their date? Lost interest? Met someone else? Normally she
didn’t allow the presence or absence of a man at her side to cast
doubt on her self-worth, but this man was the exception to every personal
rule she had about dating. She’d been so sure he felt the same way and
now…
“Why do you wear such a sad face, cherè?” a rich,
masculine voice asked from the shadows behind her.
She gasped in surprise. She’d never heard him approach, but somehow
he stood beside her, a living advertisement for sin.
Inside the dark club, his face looked chalk white. The rest of him was
encased in black from neck to toe. A lightweight ribbed turtleneck tucked
into a pair of pleated pants. A sports coat hung over one arm, the opposite
hand rested in his pants’ pocket. So much the man she remembered,
still more shadow than substance. The only part of him that vibrated with
life was the pair of quicksilver eyes which now pierced her soul.
Irritated that he’d made her doubt herself, she snapped,
“You’re like a damn ghost.”
“You didn’t answer my question,” he pointed out, moving
to her side.
Janet knew his courtly manners wouldn’t allow him to sit in the empty
chair until it was offered. She’d keep him on pins and needles for a
few more seconds to satisfy her moment of pique. “You’ve missed
most of the show. Jim Byrnes, for heaven’s sake!”
“Is this transgression so severe you’d rather I go?” His
whisky-smooth voice whispered against her ear.
Pure lust snaked down her spine. How could she be inches away from orgasm
just from the sound of his voice?
About the Author
Kira Stone has been around the block…the writer’s block, that
is.
From vamps and witches to historical heroes, from futuristic scientists to
paranormal corporate executives, from Canadian werewolves to off-world
shifters, Kira has written about them all. Manlove has sparked hot and heavy
in many of her plots, but Kira also finds a lucky lady to keep the sexy
heroes company from time to time. While Scotland remains her favorite place
in the world, Kira is constantly in search of new adventures to add to the
creative primordial ooze where her best stories are born.
Author Links
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Author’s Website
Publisher on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and TikTok:
@changelingpress
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