Seductive Characters: Breaking the 4th Wall Season One

SEDUCTIVE CHARACTERS

Copyright © 2023 by Melody Grace Hicks.

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews, or as permitted by Canadian or US copyright law.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

For information contact :

http://www.melodygracehicks.com

Book and Cover design by Melody Grace Hicks

Ebook ISBN: 978-1-7389809-5-6

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2

Description

How much trouble can one erotic romance writer get into? Maybe I shouldn’t have agreed to the Faustian deal with Loki, but you try turning him down!

All writers say their fictional characters talk to them. Mine jumped through the fabric of reality. But it’s not like there’s a writing course on preparing for your character’s sudden appearance in your backyard. Now that Asgard’s Dark Prince has opened the door between universes, he isn’t my only fictional character to do so. It’s all well and good to design traits of dominant sexy gods that are mouth-wateringly built with lickable muscles, fantasy warrior proportions in every respect—yeah, you know what I’m talking about—and those panty-melting voices… until they turn their sights on me. What’s a writer to do but hold on for the ride and document the chaos as they turn my once quiet life upside down?

After all, inspiration comes in many forms.

This compilation includes the first four episodes of Breaking The 4th Wall Season One: A Writer’s Commitment (Episode 1); Delayed Gratification (Episode 2); Don’t Taunt The Trickster (Episode 3); and Ladies’ Night (Episode 4).

Preface

This is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of my imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Yikes, what does that say about me? Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Characters included in this story are from my own novels ( Gallows Tree Conspiracy, Hidden—Triquetra Trilogy Book One); however, I have allowed them to visit and merge across my different story universes within the environment of my fourth wall-breaking interactions. These tales are told from the perspective of the writer and wrangler of these characters. I will absolutely poke fun at an entirely fictional version of myself as my characters cause trouble.

Within these episodes, I’ve included characters that encompass numerous world mythologies. However, these are deliberately manipulated into the needs of the fictional universes I’ve developed. They absolutely do not represent the real-world beliefs of any one group, nor are they intended to accurately reflect, impinge, or denigrate any of these real-world mythologies or cultures.

Trigger Warnings: Some episodes contain overconsumption of alcohol, cheating, stalking, and reference to death of a loved one.

Content themes/tropes: Some episodes contain polyamory, bondage, dominance, submission, masochism, exhibitionism, size differences, explicit sexual language, edging, denial, food play, water play, possessive, alpha hero, emotional scars, different worlds, and three’s a crowd.

I take no responsibility or liability for any damage, injury, or loss of any personal property including but not limited to unemployment, furniture breakage, walking into a telephone pole while reading, Amazon toy purchases, or spontaneous combustion of panties stemming from reading these tales. Read at your own risk. For those who decide to dive in, I highly recommend proximity to towels, a change of panties, cold showers, and fire extinguishers at all times. This is an erotic romance! It is spicy! You might want to make sure no one is reading over your shoulder on the bus, train, university/college classroom, or office. And good god, don’t try to read this while driving!

Checked over your shoulder? All clear? With those warnings out of the way, let’s dive in, shall we?

Contents

A Writer's Commitment

Breaking the 4th Wall Episode 1

Episode One Description

1.Authenticity Is Key

2.First Lesson

3.Unexpected

4.Begging

5.Wisdom Is Overrated

6.Embrace The Chaos

7.Their Pitch

8.It's For Research

Delayed Gratification

Breaking the 4th Wall Episode 2

Episode Two Description

9.Lakeside Company

10.You Called?

11.Nerves

12.Frustration

13.Rules

14.Playing A Symphony

15.Start Counting

Don't Taunt The Trickster

Breaking the 4th Wall Episode 3

Episode Three Description

16.Gods Gotta Eat, Too

17.Don't Say It

18.All Tied Up

19.His Promise

20.Claimed

21.This Is Your Wake-Up Call

22.Aftercare

Ladies' Night

Breaking the 4th Wall Episode 4

Episode Four Description

23.Escaping To Club Illusion

24.Friends & Lovers

25.In Over My Head

26.Double Trouble

27.What's On The Menu?

28.Consequences

About the Author

Also By Melody Grace Hicks

Sneak Peek

Acknowledgments

Episode One Description

How much trouble can one erotic romance writer get into? Maybe I shouldn’t have agreed to the Faustian deal with Loki, but you try turning him down!

All writers say their fictional characters talk to them. Mine jumped through the fabric of reality. But it’s not like there’s a writing course on preparing for your fictional character’s sudden appearance in your backyard. Now that Asgard’s Dark Prince has opened the door between universes, he isn’t my only fictional character to do so. What’s a writer to do but document the chaos as they turn my once quiet life upside down.

After all, inspiration comes in many forms.

Chapter 1

Authenticity Is Key

If life takes a left turn into the unexplainable, would you allow yourself to enjoy the journey or insist on trying to make sense of it?

The morning sun warms my skin as I swing gently, sitting sideways in my hammock on the sand by the dock. Like the water lapping at the nearby shore, the words pour in effortless waves of inspiration. With a grin, I click the enter button and send the first chapter to my beta-readers. It’s my newest story idea, Hidden, part of an exciting universe of stories revolving around the idea that gods and beings from mythology are real and living hidden among us.

A shadow on my face disrupts my concentration as the loss of warmth sends a shiver down my back in the cool fall air. My gaze flicks up from my computer screen, and I squeak, jerking my body back and setting the hammock swaying.

The dark silhouette of a male is only a couple of metres from me, the sun creating a halo around him.

My heart races, and it takes me a minute to close my gaping mouth. Thoughts spinning, I narrow my gaze to focus on the here and now, yet half my mind is still partly immersed in my fictional universe and its wealth of individuals.

I lick my lips with a mouth gone dry and attempt a weak chuckle. Are you real, or are you one of my characters? I ask the tall figure before me.

I’m only partly kidding. He’s standing in front of me, so, of course, he’s real, right? Right? Because if he isn’t actually there, how is he casting a shadow on me? Although, maybe I’ve fallen asleep, and this is a dream? In dreams, it’s perfectly fine to speak with my fictional characters.

After all, one hazard of being a writer is getting lost in one’s imagination and I’ve definitely had fun creating my latest male protagonist from a blend of gods from numerous new-world and old-world pantheons. Who wouldn’t want to write about a shapeshifting trickster powered by sex, stories, and chaos?

But no, I still smell the freshly cut grass, feel the light breeze stirring my hair, and the warmth of the sun contrasting with the cooler air. I bite my lip. This has to be real. It’s too vivid to be a dream.

And now he must think I’m nuts. I roll my eyes at myself, barely holding back my snort. It’s probably the Amazon delivery guy needing a signature. Although, speaking of crazy things, how did he get through my backyard and all the way to the water without my noticing? I’m not that oblivious when writing, am I?

Looking at the evidence in front of me, maybe I am.

His head cocks to the side as he considers his answer.

Squinting, my eyes start to adjust to the difference between the bright sky behind him and his face and body in shadow, but I still can’t quite make out any details of his features. Judging by his silhouette, he is tall and athletically built, but leanly muscled, not bulky. The sun reflects off parts of his clothes with a metallic glare, while other areas have a sheen suggesting leather.

With every new visual clue, my heartbeat quickens. Armour? Leather? A quarterback’s build? That’s not… no, it’s not possible. Thoughts swirling, my gaze flicks from my computer screen’s description of Asgard’s Dark Prince to the male in front of me several times in succession. It can’t be. Really?

I believe—

My breath breaks in a small gasp as he begins to speak in a sexy posh accent, the same lilt I’ve chosen for my Asgardians. No way!

—that I would consider myself real in some planes of existence and one of your characters in other multiversal realities… since you decided to write a novel including the God of Stories, he says in his purring baritone.

He walks closer in a predator’s prowl, full of confidence and swagger, stopping only when his legs bump my crossed shins in the hammock.

I know my mouth is hanging open, but I can’t help it. Finally able to see him fully, he is heart-stoppingly gorgeous—my imagination brought to life. Thick, shoulder-length black hair frames his pale angular face. Thin red lips turn up in a half-smile and penetrating green eyes, cat-bright and by no means tame, are set off by long, dark lashes. I can barely wrap my mind around the sight of him here, in front of me.

His hand reaches for me and long narrow fingers catch my chin, tilting my head up to meet those intense eyes. You called to me, little writer, he adds as he takes in my features. Everywhere his gaze travels, it leaves shivery prickles of sensation in its wake.

Gooseflesh breaks out over my skin, and I rub my hands over my upper arms.

Should I… I swallow and lick my lips in an attempt to speak past a suddenly dry mouth. Should I apologize for that? My voice cracks a bit at the end.

His smile slowly broadens, and his eyes turn mischievous, half-lidded and crinkling at the corners. That depends. Are you willing to pay the consequences of attracting my attention? His thumb caresses my cheek where he still holds my chin, sending shivers along my spine.

I gnaw my lower lip before answering. What… what are the consequences?

Releasing me, he licks his own lip, biting it as he presses my laptop closed and moves it to the ground. With fingers wrapping around each of my ankles, he uncrosses my legs and steps between them. He leans over, with his hands gripping the fabric on either side of the hammock by my head. He pushes into my space until his breath tickles my face with every exhale.

I demand authenticity. I am a God, after all, and not just of Stories, as you are well aware. Your imagination alone is insufficient to provide the inspiration and accuracy you require to adequately represent me within your stories. I have high standards. If you are going to describe how I look, my appearance, my expressions and reactions, then I insist you give me your time and attention to do your research properly.

I can’t help but tremble with him so close, so overwhelming to my senses, and oh god, so very male. He’s everything I find attractive. His scent is a combination of freshly cut conifer forests, hand-tanned leather, and citrus fruit, sweet like oranges. His aura radiates strength, dominance with an edge of danger, and heat. Even with my moratorium on relationships after finding my ex balls-deep within another, it makes my libido sit up and take notice. Deadly to panties everywhere, he exudes sex appeal in spades.

I nod my agreement, not sure I can utter a sound. Or worse, that my words will come out in a squeak.

Oh no, little writer. I need to hear your voice. Your verbal agreement that you will give me your time and attention, he demands, his tone a low growl and his eyes not leaving mine.

Barely able to suck in more than shallow gasps, my body is flushed and achy with desire.

Yes, I manage in a breathless whisper. I try again. Yes, I get out, a bit louder.

The flash of a satisfied smile, so quick I almost miss the expression and then he is in motion.

One hand fists my hair at the nape of my neck, partly bracing my back, as the other arm scoops under my ass, lifting me effortlessly out of the hammock to press my core tight against his body. My legs wrap around his hips instinctively.

He’s undeniably aroused, large and rigid against the thin protection of my yoga pants. I can barely focus. His mouth hovers just out of touching distance of mine. If I move my face a fraction, I could press our lips together. Despite the pull on my hair, I strain towards him, wanting, no… needing to close that distance. God, it’s been a few years since I kissed someone. I haven’t wanted to. Not like this… this yearning that’s a fire inside me.

He tugs my head back a bit further, a small smirk betraying his amusement as his eyes glitter with restrained lust.

You understand that means if you are writing a scene where I ravage a character’s tiny pussy with this thick cock—he grinds aggressively against me, and I moan at the flare of heat within me—"fucking her hard and deep, pounding her until she can’t walk, or making her cum so many times she passes out, I expect you to experience it first. You have