Monday Menagerie: Simone Sinna

Simone Sinna

Since a literary epiphany while walking the Camino de Santiago (the long version from central France) in 2011, she went half-time in her day job and spends the other half writing. Simone Sinna is a pseudonym under which she has published erotic romance, including the Stephanie Beauman series about an investigative journalist in exotic locations, and the Were-Devils of Tasmania series inspired by the true viruses that have endangered the Tasmanian Devils as well as the Hendra virus which has killed a number of people and horses in Queensland. She is currently working on two mainstream books as well as another MFM erotic novel in the world of BDSM.

Books available at Bookstrand and Amazon.

Follow @simonesinna


The Ghosts’ Release by Simone Sinna

Despite her home at Tarrabah being in ashes after an attack by ghost destroyers, Misty goes with her instinct to trust ghost vampire brothers Damon and Kadar, finding their attraction is mutually hypnotic. But the brothers are trying to break the northern vampires centuries long hold on the secret of a viral curse and in order to do so all three are pitted against a formidable enemy. Buoyed by a prophecy from her homeland in Tasmania, Misty must survive the vampire caves beneath Whitby but can only do so if Damon and she can link in a way they have never before through their centuries of attempts.  Aided by the ghost of her grandfather who died at the hands of the vampires, and a love that has survived generations, there is a final choice put to them by the Oracle and they must decide whether the power of love will win.

 This is the fourth and final of the Were-Devils of Tasmania series: the others are Were-Devils’ Curse, Were-Devils’ Revenge, and The Ghosts’ Return. Don’t miss the final explosive climax!



“I wouldn’t go that way if I were you.”

The voice emerged from the fog to her right and Misty visibly started. She had excellent senses and though he was downwind, she should have heard him. Or rather, them. She had been thinking of the Bronte sisters’ lonely walks on the moors and Catherine calling for Heathcliff—now, confronted by two hooded men whose faces were in shadows underneath what looked like the heavy oiled Driza-Bone coats she’d had as a teenager, Misty was left wondering for a moment if she was dreaming.

“There’s a bog hole,” the voice explained in a lightly-Australian accent. The sort of accent an Australian had after living overseas for a few years, like Misty. This one didn’t have a British twinge however. Something more exotic.

“There are bog holes everywhere,’ said Misty, stepping closer to them. “Are you heading to Robin Hood’s Bay by any chance?”

With her step forward, both men almost imperceptibly stepped back, exchanging a look. Misty stopped, all her senses alert. “I was thinking it would be good to have someone lead the way or pull me out if I go down one of those holes.”

There was a moment of silence. The icy wind picked up, straight off the North Sea, bringing with it a sense of malaise that went deeper than the cold. Misty had no need to fear men, even two of them. She could easily defeat them had their intent been anything other than noble. But, though still upwind, her senses suggested they might not be just men.

The bulkier of the two, with lazier vowels, hesitated before asking, “You’re alone?”

Misty could just make out his face. There was a softness to his lips and a boyish look, perhaps because of the wet hair over his eyes. The half-smile looked genuine and she sensed concern, but it was the deep-green eyes that drew Misty’s attention. As if he knew they had given him away, he turned to the other man who had been watching her in silence.

“I don’t think it’s safe to be walking alone,” the boyish one continued to his companion. “We should ensure she gets there.”

“Of course.” This was the voice that had first spoken, more reserved, more measured. He had the same green eyes. “That is,” he continued, “if you think we are safer than the alternative.”

Misty stared at him. The tone wasn’t threatening, but in the words was a warning. She wasn’t sure of what. There was something about him that seemed oddly familiar. She stepped closer. This time the men remained still and any doubts about who they were vanished.

“You’re a long way from home,’ said Misty, trying to keep her tone light. Against these two, even with her unusual capabilities, a bookworm like her wouldn’t stand a chance.

Ghost destroyers.

“As are you,” said the measured man, his eyes never leaving her.

She wasn’t sure why she wasn’t feeling threatened. Which instinct to go with?


Misty held her breath, feeling their arousal, the anticipation of what might be coming leaving her shaking slightly. She could hear movement, one of them going to the bathroom and running the tap while the other dropped the warm oil onto her bush and rubbed his fingers into it, briefly circling over her clit. She moaned, wanting more, but he pulled back as his brother returned.

One moved to each side and pulled up her knees. More oil dripped, right into her crack, and then she felt the gentle tug as a razor started to remove the hair of her bush. She’d never had a Brazilian, thought the whole idea of wax and beauticians doing something so personal somewhat repugnant. But this was a whole different experience. She would be, as Damon said, totally nude before them, and the idea sent more butterflies through her stomach and juice into her slit.

It took a little time as the razor did its work, but Damon−and she was sure it was him as she went into his mind−kept to the pubic area and the inner thighs, not touching her lips until Kadar whispered to her, “Now for the fun bit.”

In her inner sanctum she could feel the men communicating but couldn’t quite make out what they were saying, but she quickly lost interest in listening when their fingers opened her up and the razor went over the lips and then onto the inner edges. They worked slowly and methodically, taking it in turns to do one side each. When she was finally denuded, each ran a finger very gently over her slit. Kadar circled around her clit, gently teasing it out, as it hardened. Tingling electrical impulses vibrated through her.

“We’re going to untie you and turn you over,” said Damon, and she found herself on her stomach, this time hands together over her head and her legs tied apart but with more movement possible.

“We want to look at your very delicious ass,” said Kadar as warm oil dropped down her crack. Fingers pulled apart her butt cheeks and she felt again the pull of the razor before fingers massaged over her asshole. One finger dipped inside and she nearly cried out ‘no,’ but before the word could form a wave of pleasure silenced her. She clamped on the finger and her hips began to rock.

“I think she’s enjoying this,” Damon murmured, moving in between her legs. “Let’s see if she likes this, too.”

Misty felt her hips being lifted until she was on her knees. Damon’s tongue licked over her ass as a finger, Kadar’s she thought, ran down her slit to her clit. She shivered. Now Damon’s face was in her cunt, licking and sucking as their pleasure again merged and she was for a moment uncertain where her excitement finished and his began.

“Oh yes,’ she moaned, writhing.

“Do you want a cock?” asked Kadar.

“Yes, please.”

“Could you manage two?”

“Yes,” Misty said, though she had no idea how, just that she wanted them both, badly. She felt Kadar moving over her, and gently he ran his cock over her mouth. The exquisite feelings that Damon was teasing her with left her feeling so helpless that the thought of sucking Kadar’s cock while still tied up seemed wildly desirable. She opened her mouth and licked the pre-cum, feeling Kadar’s response escalate to join her and Damon’s. She took the end in her mouth, tongue tracing all around until she sucked him into her as hard as she could.

She was aware of Damon’s fingers opening her cunt and moving his own cock up and down it. With one thrust he entered deep inside her, pulling her hips to him just as she lifted her head to take more of Kadar’s cock. The feeling of being filled by them both, simultaneously, sent shock waves through her. Electricity left her feeling so wired she was shaking until her muscles, clamping hard over Damon’s cock, escalated the sensation to a rippling orgasmic spasm. Both men eased their thrusts as she came, Damon leaning back while remaining hard in her. “Again,” he instructed after a moment, when her panting had calmed.

This time Damon put a finger in her asshole as his thrusts became more urgent. Misty felt at once she’d break and then that if it felt this good, she didn’t care. Her arousal escalated again and this time as she came, Damon released, and Kadar, half pulling out, shot warm cum over her. She felt totally anointed and that she would belong to them forever.


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