Delylah Fayre (Trilogy Bundle)

By Melissa F. Hart

Bold, beautiful and brazen, Delylah Fayre has the world at her feet. One of the most successful female performers of her time, her rise from a singer in a church choir to a legendary diva has fulfilled her wildest dreams, but fame has also claimed part of her soul. What was once an exploration of herself through her music and her sexuality has transformed her into someone she no longer recognizes.

When Delylah meets infamous celebrity photographer, James Branagh, for an intimate photo shoot, she has no idea of the new direction her life is about to take. After the harrowing death of a young woman at one of her concerts, Delylah reaches a personal nadir, but in the process, also discovers a side of herself she thought she had lost, and returns home to reconnect with herself and her future.

• Language: English
• Publisher: MFH Ink Publishing
• Release date: Jun 28, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311413031

Melissa F. Hart

I started writing romance fiction since I was 16 years old. I'm now a published writer thanks to the wonderful world of ebooks.I live in Canada and I love the winter months. As you can see, I wrote several books related to the winter holidays.I'm not represented by an agent and I'm a proud indie. I have learned how to create websites and edit images, design book covers, etc. All my books and what you see on this website I have created myself.I'm currently a certified accountant but my dream is to be a full-time independent writer of hot erotic romance books.

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Delylah Fayre (Trilogy Bundle)

Smashwords Edition

Copyright © 2014 by Melissa F. Hart. All rights reserved worldwide.

No part of this book may be replicated, redistributed, or given away in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, without the prior written consent of the author/publisher.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

http://www.melissafhart.com/

Books in the series

Delylah Fayre - Part 1

Delylah Fayre - Part 2

Delylah Fayre - Part 3

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Synopsis

Bold, beautiful and brazen, Delylah Fayre has the world at her feet. One of the most successful female performers of her time, her rise from a singer in a church choir to a legendary diva has fulfilled her wildest dreams, but fame has also claimed part of her soul. What was once an exploration of herself through her music and her sexuality has transformed her into someone she no longer recognizes.

When Delylah meets infamous celebrity photographer, James Branagh, for an intimate photo shoot, she has no idea of the new direction her life is about to take. After the harrowing death of a young woman at one of her concerts, Delylah reaches a personal nadir, but in the process, also discovers a side of herself she thought she had lost, and returns home to reconnect with herself and her future.

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Table of Contents

Delylah Fayre - Part 1

Delylah Fayre - Part 2

Delylah Fayre - Part 3

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Delylah Fayre - Part 1

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Standing on a floodlit stage catwalk, Delylah Fayre rose like a mystical sorceress above her crazed, hand-waving audience. The firefly flashes of a thousand cameras dazzled her, her ears ringing from the echoing din of chanting, cheers and shouts that had transformed the massive domed stadium into a contemporary Roman bacchanalia. Despite a formidable wall of bodyguards flanking the catwalk, a human tsunami of fans surged closer, their ecstatic, upturned faces longing for a closer glimpse of their idol.

Bowing and throwing kisses, Delylah felt the hot glare of lights on her burnished caramel skin, the musky scent of her sweat laced with the ripe floral notes of her signature perfume. Her waist-length mane of coppery brown hair bore testament to her exotic mix of black and Creole blood, its wavy length swishing like a horse’s tail.

More than a little high on the raw, sexually charged energy radiating from the crowd, she flashed a dazzling white smile and strutted through a blaze of colored lights pulsing kaleidoscopically from the catwalk. Her voluptuous, beautifully sculpted body was provocatively emphasized in a skimpy leather and chain mail bustier that barely concealed her full, luscious breasts and the taut, protuberant mounds of her ass.

She swayed along on spurred patent leather dominatrix boots with a sense of confident sensuality that had both men and women lusting for her. Her ball-bearing hips rolled invitingly, and to amp up the tension even higher, she paused frequently to glance over her shoulder with smoldering green, Cleopatra-lined eyes to wiggle or smack her delectable cheeks.

Giant flat screens flanking the stadium relayed the pumping sound and dazzling visuals, but they could not recapture the immersive, almost orgiastic experience of standing amidst the audience.

More than once, Delylah had glimpsed provocative behavior from the audience. Male or female, the naked hunger she incited from those at her feet fed her more potently than any drug.

For Delylah was the drug, the high she offered more enduring than any hit on the market. The adoring crowd was more than her devoted slaves, they were willing supplicants worshiping a flesh and blood goddess who fueled their darkest fantasies and dissolved their inhibitions with the flick of a wrist or a tantalizing grab of her ankles.

A sultry soul diva with a honeyed-bark voice and a gaze that could melt steel, Delylah was a dark angel from a wet dream, a living fantasy who enjoyed her body on stage almost as much as she did offstage or in bed ... and how she used this power … from the graceful, tapered fingers that openly caressed her satiny flesh, to her full, glossy lips that fired the imaginations of those who yearned to feel her hot wet mouth on their body.

At twenty-four, she was a phenomenon, the darkly alluring dungeon stage an erotic playground where she translated her steamy sexuality into a controversial tour of sold-out performances and sensational tabloid headlines. Amidst the swirling mist and black satin-draped walls displaying chains, manacles and whips, her musicians, themselves specimens of male perfection, played relentlessly, their oiled, finely cut bodies writhing with a primal rhythm that perfectly characterized her music.

The last refrain of the closing song was almost over, and the hip-thrusting melody that Delylah had literally masturbated to wound down to its final pulsing notes. Now her body was drenched in sweat, her pussy chafing from the bustier’s G-string crotch that rubbed against her clit so tenaciously she had come twice on stage. There was no need to simulate. Everything and anything Delylah felt was genuine. That some though it an act while others thought it real made no difference to her. She had neither the time nor the patience to deal with the moralistic whiners who labeled her performances controversial.

Undulating slowly toward the stage, she breathed a brief sigh of relief. Tomorrow’s show would be the last for two weeks, and she was looking forward to a badly needed break. Seventeen shows packed into one month was grueling, even traveling in the luxury she was accustomed to. She thought of Therese and smiled. More than her closest friend, confidante and manager, Therese was her soul mate, the piece of a flesh and blood puzzle that fit her perfectly.

With a confident clicking of her heels, Delylah strode around the stage and shook her booty enough times to stir the audience into an even higher fever pitch. She waved and blew kisses as the musicians finally wound down to the last notes of the song. Her eyes scanning the bobbing crowd, she had long ago relegated individual faces to a mental shorthand of races and ethnicities. Three world tours had left little mystery, and despite cultural and physical differences, flesh and blood was flesh and blood, and the endless cavalcade of faces had become a blur.

So when her eyes were snared by a face staring up from near the stage, Delylah was at first confused, then intrigued. Rising a head taller than the sea of bodies around