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    Creatures of the Night
    Creatures of the Night
    Creatures of the Night
    Ebook78 pages1 hour

    Creatures of the Night

    By Giselle Renarde

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    About this ebook

    There’s nothing more seductive than a sizzling story of sex and the supernatural. In this collection, you’ll find six thrilling and chilling tales of the paranormal from award-winning author Giselle Renarde. Go ahead. Stay up late tonight with six haunting stories of vampire lust, ghostly encounters, succubus sex and more!

    Included in this collection are the following sexy stories:
    Ghost of a Chance
    Blood Lust
    Neither Love Nor Money
    Skyggen, the Shadow Woman
    Milady's Bath
    The Mesmerist and the Mare

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherGiselle Renarde
    Release dateSep 5, 2022
    ISBN9781005271015
    Creatures of the Night
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    Author

    Giselle Renarde

    Giselle Renarde is a queer Canadian, avid volunteer, and contributor to more than 100 short story anthologies, including Best Women's Erotica, Best Lesbian Erotica, Best Bondage Erotica, and Best Lesbian Romance. Ms Renarde has written dozens of juicy books, including Anonymous, Ondine, and Nanny State. Her book The Red Satin Collection won Best Transgender Romance in the 2012 Rainbow Awards. Giselle lives across from a park with two bilingual cats who sleep on her head.

    Read more from Giselle Renarde

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      Book preview

      Creatures of the Night - Giselle Renarde

      Creatures of the Night © 2018, 2022 by Giselle Renarde

      All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

      This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental. All sexually active characters in this work are 18 years of age or older.

      This book is for sale to ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It contains substantial sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which may be considered offensive by some readers. Please store your files where they cannot be accessed by minors.

      Cover design © 2018, 2022 Giselle Renarde

      First Edition 2018 by Excessica Publishing

      Second Edition 2022 by Giselle Renarde

      Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.

      Table of Contents

      Disclaimer

      Creatures of the Night

      Ghost of a Chance

      Blood Lust

      Neither Love Nor Money

      Skyggen, the Shadow Woman

      Milady’s Bath

      The Mesmerist and the Mare

      If you enjoyed Creatures of the Night, you might also enjoy:

      ABOUT GISELLE RENARDE

      Creatures of the Night

      6 Erotic Stories of the Paranormal

      By Giselle Renarde

      Ghost of a Chance

      Small world, isn’t it?

      I mean, what are the chances?  My niece is getting married—fourth niece to tie the knot in two years—and I’m at the point where I don’t look good in anything I own. I don’t look good in anything they carry in stores either, and damned if I’m going to pull out the old sewing machine. (Does it even work anymore? And do I really have the patience to thread a needle?) 

      So, in my frustration, I wear black. To a wedding.  Not even a dress!  Black pants, and a top with enough ruffles to hide my belly.

      When my daughter arrives to pick me up, she says I look fine.  She says a lot of people wear black to weddings now.  But look at her!  Summery floral fabric, little white shoes.  She looks like a million bucks and she isn’t even wearing makeup.

      At the ceremony, I feel conspicuous beyond belief.  As my niece and the dumbo she’s marrying recite their vows, I gaze across the space searching for someone else, anyone else, in black.  Men are wearing black, sure, but men can get away with anything. Lucky bastards.

      And then I spot one!  A woman my age, and she’s dressed just like me.  She’s watching the ceremony with a serene smile, and suddenly I’m staring, fixating, because I recognize her from somewhere.  From where?

      She walks up to me at the reception with her arms wide open.  Marcie Sedgewood! I thought it was you.  It’s been... how long?  Almost fifty years!

      I ask, Fifty? and finally realize who I’d spent most of the ceremony staring at.  Zelda, you always were prone to exaggeration.

      Who, me?  She wraps me in an enthusiastic hug and squeezes me tight. I never exaggerate.

      It’s strange, meeting up with someone I knew as a child.  I can’t help wondering if everybody stays the same, as Zelda has.  Am I the same Marcie I was in grade school?

      I looked for you on Facebook, thought you must have changed your name.

      I did, when I got married.  Probably should have changed it back after the divorce, but never got around to that.  Anyway, you won’t find me on Facebook. I don’t have an account.

      As we join the line for the open bar, Zelda says, You were never so behind the times back when we were kids.

      I can’t help laughing.  We were all such straight-laced children—you, me, William, Laurel. Strange to think we were pegged as the naughty bunch.

      Two black kids and two white kids who had the audacity to intermingle!  Zelda tosses her head back and laughs.  At that age, I couldn’t figure out why the teachers always frowned on us.

      I know what you mean.  As we approach the front of the line, I ask Zelda what brings her to the wedding—she’s Dumbo’s boss, apparently—and then we find two empty seats together and I say, Tell me all about Facebook.

      She’s been in touch with the kids we knew before we went to different high schools and lost contact.  Laurel now lives clear across the country—with another woman, no less!—and owns some kind of design business.  Zelda goes on and on about the other kids, kids we didn’t hang out with very much, but she never mentions William.  William, the one boy in our foursome.  The boy we all would have fought over if we’d lived in a day where twelve-year-olds had boyfriends.  Well, perhaps Laurel wouldn’t have fought for him, but Zelda and I would have put our dukes up for sure.

      Finally, I ask, How about William?  Is he married?  What’s he up to?

      Zelda’s face becomes a mask and she says, "Oh, you didn’t hear... honey, William died."

      A million questions spill out of my mouth. I can’t keep up with myself.  I want to know everything: when did this happen, how did it happen, why him, so young?  And when

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