Aurelia T Evans
This week’s erotic author in the spotlight is Aurelia T Evans – who writes for Totally Bound – and you can find out all about Aurelia and her sexy stories below. There’s even three free excerpts for you to enjoy.
If you’d like to read about other erotic authors you can find the Erotic Author Spotlight Series here. Erotic author and interested in your own free feature post at Cara Sutra? Find the call for submissions page here.
I run a similar free promotional offer for sex bloggers and sex toy reviewers. You can find the Sex Blogger Spotlight Series page here, and the call for submissions (the Q&A and other info to send me) here.
Email me at email@example.com with your info – whether author or blogger – and I will reply with your spotlight date. This will be the next available Monday for authors and the next available Thursday for bloggers.
– Cara Sutra
Aurelia T Evans Biography
Some people prefer leaving certain intimate things to the imagination, but I’ve always liked knowing what happened behind the curtains, and my erotica journey has taken me behind many.
Favoring the paranormal and horrifying, I have fingers in many subgenres of erotica and erotic romance, including vampires, shapeshifters, werewolves, angels and demons, with a profound love of villains. I examine twisted ethical perspectives through almost all of my writing, including the demonic circus Arcanium series, the shifter/werewolf Sanctuary trilogy, and the Bloodbound vampire serial.
You won’t find too many heroes or heroines in my books. Even the nice people have dark secrets. I assume there are plenty of stories out there where the good guys get the happily ever afters. I like my worlds and my characters more ambiguous on the moral spectrum—although the sex itself is rarely part of the ethical question. I figure society does enough questioning of it for me to add to all the negativity. My works feature plenty of Dominance/submission, sadomasochism, polyamory, fluid and/or queer sexuality and lots of magical sex, so I run the gamut in that respect. Variety and diversity is far more fun for me than settling.
The demonic circus Arcanium series is my most recent, and where I really get to let my unrepentant darkness loose. With wicked jinn, an incubus and succubus, the sadistic Ringmaster, killer clowns and other demons, as well as voluntary and involuntary human souls performing feats of impossible skill or displaying themselves as oddities in the freak show…there’s something for everyone. Each book is a standalone, telling the stories of different Arcanium cast members, from the fortune teller to the Bearded Lady. Arcanium is my heartstone and hearth, my writing soul, and with Ringmaster (Book 4) out this month and Contortion (Book 5) coming out in November, I’m still not done with Arcanium. There are many more stories to come.
When I’m not writing, I’m well on my way to becoming a degenerate cat lady, with a penchant for Netflix binges, creative chaos, stout beer and frozen coffee drinks. I live outside Dallas, Texas, and do doing most of my writing outside in all manner of weather, once summer goes its merry way. Thanks again for having me, and I hope you enjoy my shadowy little corner of the erotica/erotic romance.
Aurelia T Evans
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Aurelia T Evans Erotic Writing
Winter Howl (Sanctuary Book 1)
Torn between shapeshifters who love her and a dangerous, seductive werewolf, will Renee choose to stay safe or run wild?
Renee Chambers, a moderate-level agoraphobe, runs a no-kill dog sanctuary that doubles as a haven for canine shapeshifters. Britt, her best friend who also acts as Renee’s service dog, persuades an anxious but curious Renee into a romance that has more than a little electricity. With her organization running smoothly and a girlfriend who loves her, life could be worse.
Then Grant Heath, a rogue werewolf, shows up and turns her safe, little world upside-down and inside-out with a side of out-of-control. She knows it’s a terrible idea, but when she’s with him, she feels different from her tightly wound, tightly controlled self – she almost feels normal. He never does anything she doesn’t want, but he also doesn’t care how far he pushes her beyond her agoraphobic limitations.
Renee finds herself caught between two different lovers, two different worlds. Should she stay with the shapeshifters and her sanctuary and accept being just an eccentric human being in a supernatural world? Or should she accept Grant’s offer to change her and run with him as a werewolf, violent and bloody, but also fearless?
He touched her face, claiming her chin, and she felt the warmth of his skin. It seemed impossible. As he gripped tighter, she pressed the edge of the blade closer to his neck. He let go of her.
“If you do decide to use it, love, you better use it hard and fast. But even then, werewolves heal quickly. You might not even come close to killing me.”
“It’s silver,” she said.
Grant paused. “No, it isn’t.”
“It’s sterling silver,” Renee explained. “I bought it a week after you came.”
In that moment, Renee thought she saw a touch of fear. Then that look turned into something calculating and contemplative before melting into an expression that Renee could not put a finger on. Except that it made her cunt clench.
“So you really do know that I’m a dangerous man.” He licked his lips. “Maybe a cruel man.”
“I’m not stupid. And I don’t have to stab you hard. Just enough to reach the bloodstream. Isn’t that right?”
He tried to step forward, the heat from his body reaching her even through her clothes. And she was not looking directly, but she could just see that his cock was certainly not feeling the cold. She pressed a little harder, knowing that if he came closer, she really would nick him, and that would be bad. Partially for him, but also for her. She did not want to hurt him—she didn’t like to hurt anybody. But she was shaking, and not because it was cold. She vibrated with tension.
“You know you could kill me with that,” Grant murmured.
Renee nodded. She swallowed against a tightened throat.
His eyes seemed to glow red, and there was no question that he was aroused now. “God, I want you,” he groaned, voice deep and low and so primal—the baritone shivered down her spine and pooled in her belly. “I can’t even tell you how much I want you.”
She could not explain where it came from—the same hidden place that had inspired her before—but, still pressing the knife against his neck, she pulled him to her and kissed him as hard as she could. There was no finesse, no skill, no artistry, nothing she could have learnt. There was only the passion that made her squirm where she was, pulling him nearer until he was flush against her, even with the knife clenched in her hand and cold between them. With every groan, that deep half-growl, she tasted him and pressed him closer. He was hot to the touch, and as he grabbed her thighs and pulled her up so that she was straddling him, then pressed her against a wall, his body heated hers until she was sweating under all her layers.
All she wanted to do was shed them until it was skin on skin, until the frozen snow around them melted with the fire of whatever abandon he was creating inside her. He splayed his hands across her back, under her coat, under her shirt, pushing the latter up over her breasts. He consumed her with as much artlessness and need as she did him. She had never felt like this, and she was not sure that she liked it very much. But she was sure that she wanted it to continue.
She pulled away. The cold slipped in where he was not touching her, and she almost leaned back to kiss him, just to keep that warmth.
He gazed at her lips, seeming unable to look away, his mouth open as though he was going to recapture her at any time.
Renee brought the edge of the knife up over the jugular vein, then touched it to his jaw, then the corner of his mouth. She slid down his body, catching his hard cock between them before her feet reached the ground. He hissed at the chafing from the denim of her jeans.
“You know what this means, love?” Grant said.
Renee covered his mouth with the knife, silencing him. But she reached down with her other hand and touched the head of his cock. The skin was surprisingly smooth and soft to her, and she slid her hand down until she held the firm base of his erection in her palm.
“Don’t say anything,” she ordered. And she began to lead him back around the house by the cock.
-Aurelia T Evans
“Intervention” (originally part of the Wild After Dark anthology)
It starts as an intervention for a friend. It ends in bloodshed, lust, betrayal and death, as love often does after dark.
When Emily’s husband, Land, calls her to come to the warehouse district at sunset, at first she thinks it’s just another job for their para-extermination company. Then he tells her that they’ve finally caught Matt, the third member of their team, who was bitten by a werewolf a few weeks ago and has been missing ever since.
Emily races to the warehouse. She and Land plan to reassure him that they’ll provide all the help that he needs and that he doesn’t need to run away from them. They’re no strangers to the supernatural, after all.
What she arrives to, however, is Matt wild in his cage, a creepy vampire duct-taped to a pipe, Land covered in blood from a bite mark on his neck, and not a single easy answer in sight.
Land lowered his eyes and stared at Emily’s lips, as ivory as her skin now. She was losing her warmth.
Taken down by a clan of werecats, a strange vampire catching her in an alley, maybe sacrificed to a demon cult, eaten alive by plague rats…those were the deaths she’d signed on for when she’d become a small-game demon hunter with him.
She hadn’t signed on for death at the hands of the men she loved and who loved her. It was a sick joke of a death. God would forgive them before Emily did.
At least there was a chance for redemption—for all of them—if they fell from grace first.
The seductive scent and gleam of her wound drew him down. The closer he came, the stronger the seduction, until he could practically taste it, metallic and rich in his mouth. He parted his lips again, stretched them open wide over his teeth like a bat. The unsteady, slow timpani of her heartbeat in his ears called to him.
The craving was too strong, his thirst too powerful, as though he’d been starving for a week, not a few hours.
“Matt…” he whispered, barely more than a breath, because his lips were on her flesh.
And he was gone.
The blood running over his tongue was like a woman’s juices slick and hot over his erection. He groaned as he buried his teeth in her, as good as a mouth around his cock. He clutched at her breast and reached to squeeze himself through his jeans.
Matt grabbed that wrist.
“I got it,” he said.
He scratched deep lines into Land’s wrist with his claws, bringing his cursed blood up in a dark spill. Then Matt opened Emily’s mouth and let the blood flow in, making sure Land’s wrist stayed in place.
Land hoped to God his blood was making it down her throat with her head propped up in his lap, because there was nothing more that Land could do but clutch her closer. Her heartbeat was now a roar in his ears, his arousal constantly at the edge of the precipice.
Land’s world had become red and wet. He drank greedily until there was nothing left pumping into his mouth, no matter how hard he sucked. He licked all over the wound until it would yield no more. When he began to bite again in different places, threatening to rip at her in the effort to call more blood to the surface, Matt grabbed him by the hair and wrenched him back.
-Aurelia T Evans
Fortune (Arcanium Book 1)
He’s the reason to be careful what you wish for.
After her jealous boyfriend makes an angry, careless wish, Maya DeLuca finds herself trapped in a traveling demonic circus and at the mercy of a devious jinni, Bell Madoc. She joins the other lost souls of Arcanium who suffer in perpetual purgatory under the weight of their wishes, all making the best of a cursed situation.
But Maya’s not even cursed because of her own wish, which means she still has three for Bell to grant.
He may be fond of her—the passion they share is as hellfire hot as it is wrong—but that doesn’t mean she’s safe from his endlessly inventive, wicked imagination. He might twist her wishes at his whim for his own pleasure. Or he might just give her what she wants…which could be even worse.
“I fulfill the wishes and the Ringmaster deals the punishments, but those are the only torments and tortures allowed in Arcanium. The rest of the time, my people are to remain untouched and unhurt against their will,” Bell said.
“Why?” Maya asked.
“Because that is how I wish it,” Bell replied.
“I thought your wishes don’t have power.”
“No. But I do,” he said. He swept an arm around her waist and brought them more tightly together. There was no way for her to deny his arousal—and no way for her to deny her own. “Is it your wish that I take you, Maya?”
She shook her head and bit her lip to keep herself from saying yes, although her hips rubbed subtly against his erection, acting independently of her will. Her mind was no longer steering this ship—if she wasn’t willing to speak her wishes aloud, her body intended to make them known. She slid her hands down his chest to his abdomen, pausing at the darker trail of hair that led into his loose trousers. It would be so easy to follow that path. Her fingers twitched.
“Good girl,” he said. He released her hips to cradle her face in his palms and advanced. She backed away to keep her balance.
It felt like a dance, a tango without the prudishness. Maya had never experienced this kind of need, as though she would explode if he didn’t kiss her in the next fifteen seconds, burst into flame and burn down to ash if he stopped touching her. She’d never known such intense lust actually existed.
“Do you want me to take you?”
“No,” she said, clutching his forearms, her legs aligned with his as he guided her toward one of the oddity’s tents.
When her back hit a wooden tent pole, he ceased his insistent push. His hands hovered over her shoulders, down her arms. His gaze crawled over her, over all the places her body wanted him to lavish her with every ounce of his inhuman intensity. But he didn’t. Evil as he was, the man had a code—a twisted, arbitrary code, but a code nonetheless.
“Beg me to take you anyway.”
She was suddenly reminded of Lord Mikhail telling her to go, the husky growl that shot straight between her legs.
Bell broke from her. The touch she craved, wanted, needed, had been taken away. Maya tugged at the roots of her hair, leaning against the post. It might have been the only thing holding her up at that point. She thought she might sob, for a whole shameful knot of reasons.
In her entire life, she had never wanted something she shouldn’t so badly before. Of all the things in this circus she should run from tonight, this was the one that would truly damage her if she didn’t.
She wished to God—not to Bell, and thank goodness he didn’t grant mental wishes—that she could blame her arousal on Lady Sasha and Lord Mikhail. But it was like Bell had said. Her attraction had already been there. That hadn’t been one of his lies. In spite of all the things that should have worked against it, attraction didn’t listen to reason or fundamental morality. It just wanted.
“Beg me, Maya,” Bell rasped. He stepped back, clenching those beautiful hands into fists of restraint.
Hail Mary, full of grace, oh God, forgive me, I don’t know if this is wrong.
She grabbed the back of his neck and snaked an arm around his waist, yanking him back against her and pulling him down to kiss him. He groaned, releasing his self-imposed self-denial in a single fell swoop. Maya swallowed the vibrations down deep into her, and her legs trembled. She didn’t know if the tent post could support both of them.
He touched his tongue to her lower lip and sucked it into his mouth as she shuddered all over. He ran his hands across the laces of her corset and down the leather skirt then sought her thigh underneath, drawing her even closer.
– Aurelia T Evans
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