Release Date: August 16, 2017
Publishers: Blushing Books
Genre: Erotic Romance
Publishers: Blushing Books
Genre: Erotic Romance
"A man could go to war in defence of a body like yours, you know. You hold most men in the palm of your hand.”
The missing father; the predatory stepfather; the abusive lover; they all let her down.
She is one of the most beautiful and photographed women in the world.
She lives the life many young girls dream about.
But sometimes the dream and the reality don’t match up.
William, a powerful and charismatic Dom, who excites her like no other man before, steps into her life.
Will he be different from the others?
Will he recognize her need for loving submission?
"I can't keep traipsing three miles every time I want to spank that delectable little behind of yours."
NOTE: This book was previously published, under the same title but with a different cover, under the author name of Rachel de Vine.
The missing father; the predatory stepfather; the abusive lover; they all let her down.
She is one of the most beautiful and photographed women in the world.
She lives the life many young girls dream about.
But sometimes the dream and the reality don’t match up.
William, a powerful and charismatic Dom, who excites her like no other man before, steps into her life.
Will he be different from the others?
Will he recognize her need for loving submission?
"I can't keep traipsing three miles every time I want to spank that delectable little behind of yours."
NOTE: This book was previously published, under the same title but with a different cover, under the author name of Rachel de Vine.
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EXCERPTS FROM OUT OF THE DARKNESS BY JULIETTE BANKS:
NOTE: This is erotic fiction. If erotic fiction may offend you, please do not read beyond this point:
Excerpt 1
I'm not sure that even I know the real me. My life had changed so often since I'd been 'discovered' at the tender age of fifteen, while walking down the King's Road in Chelsea, and within two years I was pictured on the covers of all the glossy magazines. It all happened so quickly. One day I was a fairly ordinary London schoolgirl, and the next I was travelling the world and being wined and dined by the world's glitterati. Then there were the men. Mostly, they were older, successful and wealthy men who bought me champagne and dinner and then thought they owned me. Some of them were very powerful, men you would not want to cross for fear of the consequences. A few were kind, but many were not. I sometimes wondered if the fault lay with me. Did I do or say things to attract the wrong type of man? Did I give off the wrong vibes, or was I simply unlucky? I had no idea.
The working life of most models is quite short; youth and beauty being such transient states. Make the most of it, was the advice I often received, especially by older models who knew that there were always younger and prettier women to take their place. Many of the girls, if they didn't make it right to the top where the serious money was made, adopted the other route of marrying wealthy men. It wasn’t always a guaranteed success. I knew of several older models who had given up the catwalk and married such men, some of whom turned out to be serial philanderers. They became second or third wives, and probably realised with a sinking heart that they were destined eventually to be replaced, as their predecessors had been.
I had a few love affairs, but I had never fallen in love. I saw most for what they were, men who viewed a beautiful woman as another symbol of their success, like expensive sports cars, yachts, and luxury villas. I tried to stay away from that sort of man, but I wasn't always clever enough to spot the ones who should be avoided at all costs. They didn't all look like Russian gangsters.
"Oh I work hard, but I play hard, too. Do you play hard, Marianne?"
I'm not sure that even I know the real me. My life had changed so often since I'd been 'discovered' at the tender age of fifteen, while walking down the King's Road in Chelsea, and within two years I was pictured on the covers of all the glossy magazines. It all happened so quickly. One day I was a fairly ordinary London schoolgirl, and the next I was travelling the world and being wined and dined by the world's glitterati. Then there were the men. Mostly, they were older, successful and wealthy men who bought me champagne and dinner and then thought they owned me. Some of them were very powerful, men you would not want to cross for fear of the consequences. A few were kind, but many were not. I sometimes wondered if the fault lay with me. Did I do or say things to attract the wrong type of man? Did I give off the wrong vibes, or was I simply unlucky? I had no idea.
The working life of most models is quite short; youth and beauty being such transient states. Make the most of it, was the advice I often received, especially by older models who knew that there were always younger and prettier women to take their place. Many of the girls, if they didn't make it right to the top where the serious money was made, adopted the other route of marrying wealthy men. It wasn’t always a guaranteed success. I knew of several older models who had given up the catwalk and married such men, some of whom turned out to be serial philanderers. They became second or third wives, and probably realised with a sinking heart that they were destined eventually to be replaced, as their predecessors had been.
I had a few love affairs, but I had never fallen in love. I saw most for what they were, men who viewed a beautiful woman as another symbol of their success, like expensive sports cars, yachts, and luxury villas. I tried to stay away from that sort of man, but I wasn't always clever enough to spot the ones who should be avoided at all costs. They didn't all look like Russian gangsters.
"Oh I work hard, but I play hard, too. Do you play hard, Marianne?"
Excerpt 2
The man who introduced me to the 'darker arts,' as I often referred to them, was Leon, a French multi-millionaire who invited me for dinner, which turned out to be on his yacht in the Mediterranean. He sent his private jet to transport me from London to St Tropez.
"Isn't this rather a long way to go for dinner?" I asked, telling him that I had a fashion shoot in Paris the following day.
"Not at all, ma chère. I will fly you down tomorrow at mid-day. We can have dinner on the yacht and you can stay overnight. In the morning I’ll have my plane fly you to Paris. I'll n'y a pas de problème."
Leon had a very slight air of menace to him, even though he was handsome beyond words, and I hesitated briefly. He leaned over and kissed me gently on the lips and, in a moment of insanity I accepted his invitation.
The yacht was enormous and very luxurious. He had a chef cook us a magnificent dinner and serve it on the private deck that lay outside his personal quarters where, he informed me, only very special people are invited. It was obvious that the price of dinner was to be sex, but it was to be of a type I had never encountered before, even if other men had hinted at it from time to time.
We drank champagne and the heady mix of that, together with the velvety Mediterranean night air and the gentle rocking of the boat, made me lower my defences. When he stood and took my hand and led me into his cabin, I offered no resistance at all.
I was wearing just a simple, silk shift, with spaghetti straps and a thong. It took a second for Leon's practised hands to remove my dress, which fluttered down around my feet. He bent and kissed my breasts and ran his hands over my bottom.
"You are so beautiful. Do you understand how you make men wild with lust when they see you?" He didn't seem to expect an answer to his question.
Was it to be pleasure or pain this time, or perhaps a combination of both, given in the way that only he can?
The man who introduced me to the 'darker arts,' as I often referred to them, was Leon, a French multi-millionaire who invited me for dinner, which turned out to be on his yacht in the Mediterranean. He sent his private jet to transport me from London to St Tropez.
"Isn't this rather a long way to go for dinner?" I asked, telling him that I had a fashion shoot in Paris the following day.
"Not at all, ma chère. I will fly you down tomorrow at mid-day. We can have dinner on the yacht and you can stay overnight. In the morning I’ll have my plane fly you to Paris. I'll n'y a pas de problème."
Leon had a very slight air of menace to him, even though he was handsome beyond words, and I hesitated briefly. He leaned over and kissed me gently on the lips and, in a moment of insanity I accepted his invitation.
The yacht was enormous and very luxurious. He had a chef cook us a magnificent dinner and serve it on the private deck that lay outside his personal quarters where, he informed me, only very special people are invited. It was obvious that the price of dinner was to be sex, but it was to be of a type I had never encountered before, even if other men had hinted at it from time to time.
We drank champagne and the heady mix of that, together with the velvety Mediterranean night air and the gentle rocking of the boat, made me lower my defences. When he stood and took my hand and led me into his cabin, I offered no resistance at all.
I was wearing just a simple, silk shift, with spaghetti straps and a thong. It took a second for Leon's practised hands to remove my dress, which fluttered down around my feet. He bent and kissed my breasts and ran his hands over my bottom.
"You are so beautiful. Do you understand how you make men wild with lust when they see you?" He didn't seem to expect an answer to his question.
Was it to be pleasure or pain this time, or perhaps a combination of both, given in the way that only he can?
Excerpt 3
He seemed a very powerful, charismatic man, but one who exercised his power in an understated way. I couldn't imagine him losing his cool and shouting. Some sixth sense also told me that he was a dominant man, especially in bed, and the thought brought a spasm and dampness between my legs. I hadn’t had a lover for a little while, so it didn’t take a great deal for my normally healthy libido to respond. He looked sideways at me and I knew that he knew about my spark of interest. He was clearly a very intuitive man, but he gave no obvious response. He was not flirting with me and he made no attempt to touch me, as he had the stewardess.
"So, Marianne, what takes you to New York, work or pleasure? Or perhaps the two come together for you."
"Mainly work, although I am hoping to do a little shopping while I’m there. And you? Work I suppose?"
"Yes, but I never overlook the need for a little pleasure too. Life is too short for all work and no play. As someone once said, very few men on their deathbed say that they wished they had spent more time at the office. Is that not true, Marianne?"
I loved the way he looked directly at my face as he spoke my name, even though he was sitting alongside. He gave me his complete attention, unlike many men who seem to look everywhere but my face when they were talking to me. I often think I should have a second pair of eyes on my breasts, so men could look at both at the same time.
"Yes, you’re right. My father worked himself into an early grave and never got the chance to enjoy the fruits of his labour."
That was a lie, because I never knew my father. For all I knew, he could be the British Prime Minister. But it just seemed the right thing to say at the time, and for some years I had talked to people about this fantasy father, as though it was more acceptable to have had a father and lost him, than never to have had a father at all. Perhaps it was the lack of a father that made me search for a fatherly figure in my life; a search that had only brought fleeting happiness in my life so far.
"Oh I work hard, but I play hard, too. Do you play hard, Marianne?" I shivered and half turned in my seat to look at his face. Sure enough there was the glint in the eye and the almost imperceptible facial expression that I had seen before, and I knew that he was a Dominant. I had been around enough of them to recognize one. After my past experiences, I should have been more wary, and run a mile. But where do you run to when you are 33,000 feet in the air over the Atlantic? I couldn't stop myself from saying it as though an invisible force was drawing it from me. "Yes, I do like to play hard, Sir." He lifted my hand to his lips and gave me a soft kiss. From that point on my fate was probably sealed. The attraction had been instantaneous. I knew that William and I were almost certainly going to play together, in one way or another.
He seemed a very powerful, charismatic man, but one who exercised his power in an understated way. I couldn't imagine him losing his cool and shouting. Some sixth sense also told me that he was a dominant man, especially in bed, and the thought brought a spasm and dampness between my legs. I hadn’t had a lover for a little while, so it didn’t take a great deal for my normally healthy libido to respond. He looked sideways at me and I knew that he knew about my spark of interest. He was clearly a very intuitive man, but he gave no obvious response. He was not flirting with me and he made no attempt to touch me, as he had the stewardess.
"So, Marianne, what takes you to New York, work or pleasure? Or perhaps the two come together for you."
"Mainly work, although I am hoping to do a little shopping while I’m there. And you? Work I suppose?"
"Yes, but I never overlook the need for a little pleasure too. Life is too short for all work and no play. As someone once said, very few men on their deathbed say that they wished they had spent more time at the office. Is that not true, Marianne?"
I loved the way he looked directly at my face as he spoke my name, even though he was sitting alongside. He gave me his complete attention, unlike many men who seem to look everywhere but my face when they were talking to me. I often think I should have a second pair of eyes on my breasts, so men could look at both at the same time.
"Yes, you’re right. My father worked himself into an early grave and never got the chance to enjoy the fruits of his labour."
That was a lie, because I never knew my father. For all I knew, he could be the British Prime Minister. But it just seemed the right thing to say at the time, and for some years I had talked to people about this fantasy father, as though it was more acceptable to have had a father and lost him, than never to have had a father at all. Perhaps it was the lack of a father that made me search for a fatherly figure in my life; a search that had only brought fleeting happiness in my life so far.
"Oh I work hard, but I play hard, too. Do you play hard, Marianne?" I shivered and half turned in my seat to look at his face. Sure enough there was the glint in the eye and the almost imperceptible facial expression that I had seen before, and I knew that he was a Dominant. I had been around enough of them to recognize one. After my past experiences, I should have been more wary, and run a mile. But where do you run to when you are 33,000 feet in the air over the Atlantic? I couldn't stop myself from saying it as though an invisible force was drawing it from me. "Yes, I do like to play hard, Sir." He lifted my hand to his lips and gave me a soft kiss. From that point on my fate was probably sealed. The attraction had been instantaneous. I knew that William and I were almost certainly going to play together, in one way or another.
WHO IS JULIETTE BANKS:
I write erotic romance as both Juliette Banks and Rachel de Vine, and love to write about sensual, romantic and erotic characters who lead interesting lives, and who often have to overcome challenges along the way. I prefer to write erotic romance, rather than straight erotica, because I am essentially a romantic person, but I also like to involve my characters in an exciting life of Dominance and submission at different levels.
I am British, love the rural life and live in a beautiful home in the middle of the rolling English countryside. I also like to travel around the world from time to time, and have visited some beautiful and exciting places on the way. I am forever grateful that I was born in a place and at a time to take advantage of the freedoms and pleasures that are still denied to many people of the world. We must never take such freedom for granted.
I am British, love the rural life and live in a beautiful home in the middle of the rolling English countryside. I also like to travel around the world from time to time, and have visited some beautiful and exciting places on the way. I am forever grateful that I was born in a place and at a time to take advantage of the freedoms and pleasures that are still denied to many people of the world. We must never take such freedom for granted.
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Till next time, have a wonderful, peace-filled day!
CHOOSE TO BE HAPPY!
EMBRACE THE OPPORTUNITIES LIFE PRESENTS TO YOU AND ALWAYS, ALWAYS FOLLOW YOUR DREAMS!
HAVE A GREAT LIFE AND SPREAD THE LOVE!
CHANGING THE WORLD – ONE READER AT A TIME
EMBRACE THE OPPORTUNITIES LIFE PRESENTS TO YOU AND ALWAYS, ALWAYS FOLLOW YOUR DREAMS!
HAVE A GREAT LIFE AND SPREAD THE LOVE!
CHANGING THE WORLD – ONE READER AT A TIME
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