The Gods Must Be Horny Series

There is something mysterious about the Abbey of St Guinivere. Something...dark. When Sister Abigail is sent there to translate a mysterious scroll, she has no idea what she will unleash. But the longer she stays, the less she wants to leave. Because Sister Abigail Woodward is part of the Nun's Seduction! ~~~~~ PG Excerpt ~~~~~ “Belial,” she whispered, choosing a name at random from the scroll. The sound carried from her lips, waking faint echoes in the dark library. “Three maidens desire your presence. Three women hunger for your touch. Three who have lived without a man summon you, in the name of our Lord Himself.” She stopped. In the silence which followed, her skin flushed hotly. She let go of Merry and Consuela’s hands, feeling enormously stupid. “Well,” a strong male voice said from directly behind her, making her jump. “It’s about damned time.” ***** Long, long after, when Abigail and her sisters had a chance to discuss the events of those first frantic days after Belial entered their lives, she was surprised to discover that Merry and Consuela had much different impressions of the angel who eventually became their lover. For Abigail, he appeared as an athletic young man, perhaps a year or two older than himself. His eyes were an entrancing dark green, the color of oak leaves in the morning, and his hair was a rich, chocolate brown. He was well-muscled without being overly bulky, but the six-pack he had at his abdomen, visible through the unbuttoned shirt he wore with casual ease, made her mouth grow dry. But for Consuela, he appeared in a completely different form. A dark-haired, dark-skinned man of her own nationality met her hungry gaze, his face infused with a roguish charm. He had a cleft chin, high cheekbones, and his cheeks were stubbled with the faintest hint of a beard. He was dressed in tight-fitting jeans, so snug she felt she could read the minted dates of the coins in his pockets, if he had any, and a black t-shirt covered by a black leather jacket. His hair was coal-black, swept back from his temples, and his eyes were faintly predatory. And when Meredith told them of her first sight of Belial, she spoke of a man in the prime of life, much older than the man who appeared to Abbie and Consuela. Blond and of average height, he had laugh lines at the corners of his mouth and around his eyes, which crinkled appealingly when he smiled, which was often. But whether he appeared as a Latino bad-boy, a comforting older man, or a green-eyed seducer, their reaction was the same. All three women thought Belial was the most incredibly good-looking man they had seen in their lives. Abigail swallowed through a desert-dry throat, her eyes wide as his sheer physical presence hit her like a hammer-blow. Inside her modest blouse, she began to sweat, her breasts feeling hot and flushed. Her heart pounded, the sound ringing like a drumbeat in her ears and at the junction of her thighs, and she felt the tidal surge of desire quicken her loins. “God damn,” the women sighed, in ragged chorus.

The nuns of St. Guinevere have done it. In this sequel to "The Nun's Seduction," the angel Belial has been summoned, brought to earth to satisfy their every lusty desire. But some of the sisters are getting cold feet. Do they have the strength to withstand his sexual power? Or will they take part in "The Nun's Corruption?" ~~~~~ Excerpt ~~~~~ This is right. The entire day seemed to coalesce, suddenly, snapping into focus as instantly as if she had been suffering from vision problems and had been handed a set of glasses. She knew, in that moment, that she never wanted to be parted from Belial, or from Abigail or Consuela. Her heart expanded, breaking the shackles of her self-imposed solitude. The angel beneath her nodded, as if he could read her mind. “Now?” “God, yes!” She tried to shift, to take his jutting manhood inside her body, but found her effort stymied as Belial’s hands closed around her narrow hips. Her mouth hung open with disbelief as she found herself lifted effortlessly off the ground, hanging in midair. Her toes reached down, seeking the solidity of the earth, but found only the warm summer breeze. “What?” “Spread your legs for me, lovely Merry.” Belial smiled up at her, and she felt herself smiling in response. “I haven’t done this in a very long time.” She shook her head. “You’re insane.” But she did as he bid, spreading her legs wide, as if she were some sort of erotic gymnast. Slowly, how slowly he lowered her, aiming her seething center at the head of his phallus. As it approached her, she bit her lip, knowing that this step, one taken, was irrevocable. Belial seemed to sense her hesitation, for his eyes locked with hers. “It’s not too late. You can always say no. I’ll stop. I’ll always stop, if you ask.” She shook her head. “No. I want this.” I wouldn’t stop now for anything. “Brave Meredith.” Slowly, with infinite gentleness, he lowered her, his angelic phallus piercing her, filling her with holy rapture...

Evanora needs money. A customer needs a fertility potion. But the sexy witch needs a special ingredient - the seed of a virgin man! And when a handsome, born-again Christian comes by, this naughty witch is going to do everything in her sexy powers to get Thomas into her bed - and more! ~~~~~ PG Excerpt ~~~~~ A Christian wizard. It seemed like a bad joke. But, maybe, after, all, he wasn’t quite as unique as he feared. He thought about Newton, the brilliant mind behind The Principia, which had lain the foundations for physics for three centuries, but who had also taught himself Hebrew, so he could better understand the floor plans of the Great Temple in Jerusalem, where he hoped to find hints about the date of the Second Coming of Christ. Or Darwin, whose faith had been so sorely tested while he wrote On the Origin of Species that he had essentially tossed the manuscript into a drawer for over a decade, until Alfred Russel Wallace’s work in the Malay Archipelago had pushed him to publish. The hour of sunset passed. Having reached an internal truce with himself, he walked out the back door, still dressed in the robe he had brought to the house, half as a joke. Following Evanora’s instructions, he let his robe slip off his shoulders as he walked naked down the narrow flight of steps that led into the pool. He ducked down, submerging his nude body in the water. High in the sky, the waxing moon shone down on him, bathing the yard in a thin, silvery light. Emerging, he threw his head back, dashing water from his eyes, blinking as thin streams ran down his face. And then Evanora came out, and he lost all ability for thought. She was naked, and she strode towards him like a queen, like a goddess, like the perfect female form made flesh. Her legs were long and lean, her stomach flat, the fiery patch of hair at her pubis neatly trimmed. Her breasts, which he had seen in tantalizing glimpses throughout the day, were large, high, and firm, and pointed ever-so-slightly upward. Her eyes, shadowed in the dim light, were wise, and her face was serene – a woman who had seen her Goddess and knew that She approved of her. Slowly, gracefully, she stepped down into the pool. When her eyes caught and held his, it was all he could do to hold back an involuntary flinch. There was power there. Power enough to send him reeling, untrained as he was. “Thomas Oberon Winkler. Is it your wish to undergo training as a wizard, to be my apprentice, and to give yourself to the service of the Light?” He swallowed. “It is, Mistress.” “By what do you swear?” “By my power. And by my name.” She nodded. He lowered his eyes as she cupped her hands, raised them, and poured the gathered water over his head. “Be thou shriven. “Be thou bound. “Be thou sanctified. “Be thou baptized. “Be thou courageous, and honorable, and strong.” As the fifth double handful of water trickled away, Thomas blinked, clearing his eyes. All through the ceremony, he had felt the air around them tensing, growing charged as with electricity before a thunderstorm. But the air was still warm and dry, the skies above still clear. He looked at Evanora, and knew that she felt it, too. Her eyes were wide and wild as she gazed at him, her pupils dilated. “Be thou my lover,” she whispered, and Thomas saw, to his startlement, that he was erect, only a hairs-width from the pale belly of his mistress. Who put her hands on his shoulders, drew his head down, and kissed him with a skill and passion he could scarcely believe.