Primal Impulse (Xtreme Edition)
Read Primal Impulse (Xtreme Edition) Online
Authors: James Johnson
Tags: #romance, #Erotica, #Fiction
(Xtreme Edition)
James Johnson
Copyright © 2014 James Johnson
E-Copyright © 2014 James Johnson
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
.
Published by
JamesCafe.com
ISBN: 978-0-9788767-9-1
Kindle Edition
Cover design by Kari Ayasha/Cover to Cover Designs
This is my big leap into the romance genre. As a male I am deeply indebted to the women in my life, past and present. Without you I would never have come to understand your complicated gender—of course I still don’t. You know who you are. A special thanks to the number one woman in my life, my mom. You are the absolute best.
I would like to thank the following for their invaluable advice, assistance and editing: Joyce Cox, Alicia Lozano, Carolyn Loshuertos and Deborah Havre. Kari Ayasha—you are the CoverGirl. I thank you so much.
“True love opens the door to your soul.”
—
Jaqueline Kiss
Chapter 1E
very granule of her body luxuriated in ecstasy. Every fiber was a receptacle of pleasure. Once again she convulsed in fiery gratification. It was a picture of exquisite pleasure. Nothing could ever compare to this. It was free and raw and pure. It fed from the soul. It was a primal unleashing of passion, an unbridled lust fulfilled.
Christina shuddered as one last powerful orgasm rocked her body. This one was different than the others. It pierced through the physical realm of pleasure, transcended the sensual sphere. It reached through layers of lusty desires and into her soul. It was powered by emotion, fueled by spirit and guided by the heavens. It was destiny.
Jena felt it like it was hers. Every word pierced her soul with an arrow of emotion. Every sentence unleashed her primal desire. Each chapter fueled her with a raging lust that burned within. Every novel carved her heart up into little pieces before placing it back together again. Jena turned to the next page.
They were immersed in the afterglow of Christina’s primal release. They basked in the warmth of togetherness. The world stood still as they held each other tight.
Even their breathing was in tune as they inhaled each other. Their air was theirs and theirs alone. It was a bouquet of contentment and fiery lust dissolved. It was the fragrance of fulfilled desire and endless joy. It was the scent of two lovers becoming one. It was the smell of sex. It was the breath of God.
It was all so perfect. Justin and Christina were each other. They were bound by body, mind and spirit. They were complete. They were two sated souls locked into each other. Nothing could ever tear them apart. They were forever one.
Jena looked at the clock—2 a.m. She had to get some sleep. She had to wake up at seven to go to work. She put down her book and turned out the light.
Joan Dixon’s tale of love and lust remained. It was just too powerful to quickly fade away. It reached places where no one had ever been. It touched the heart and heated the body. No one could write like her.
Joan Dixon had written three books so far.
Naked Emotion
was her current favorite, but that changed like the wind. They were all classics in Jena’s mind. They were all her babies of which she could never choose one over the other. They were each precious in their own way.
Jena had read each novel several times. Each one was distinctly different, but they all had one thing in common. They were conceived of raw emotion. Joan Dixon’s novels ripped a gash into her readers’ hearts. Then she filled that hole with hopes and dreams and a real chance at love. Her words came not from her intellect but from her soul. They flowed not from her fingertips but from her heart.
That’s what Joan Dixon captured—the emotional state of a woman. She paints a picture with words. When her characters are riding high so are you. When they’re falling from the sky you’re falling too. You
become
that girl who’s showered in the golden ray of love. You ride her same emotional high. You
are
that woman who’s covered in the cold blood of a broken romance. You too bleed from the heart.
Joan Dixon leaves a piece of herself. The ink on the paper is her spirit and soul. Every page is saturated with that special something that’s hard to explain. She somehow taps into her reader’s inner psyche. It’s as if Joan Dixon’s soul is bleeding onto the pages.
Hers are tales of the heart that leave you with hope. Every novel has a happy ending. The girl always walks off into the sunset with the prize on her arm—her one and only. She never fails to find true love and all its trappings. She gleams under the bright light of her triumph, the sunshine of love.
Joan Dixon’s novels are inspiration. You never know when you’ll step out that door and he’ll be there. Fate could place your prince right at your doorstep.
Just like Christina in
Heart of the Animal
you could hit the jackpot of love. Just like Alicia in
Naked Emotion
you could feel the arrow of romance slice through your heart. Just like Jessica in
Dirty Love
you could experience the electrifying pleasure of consummated desires.
Jena felt a tear roll down her cheek. Right now that dream seemed a million miles away. She had just finalized her divorce. Her one and only had left her for another. Her shot at love had fallen through the cracks. It lay shattered in the muddy waters of mistrust and suspicion. Every new man she met seemed to be the same. They were all silver-tongued conveyers of bullshit. The world and everybody in it seemed to be lying or living within a lie.
That’s the way she really felt. That was the reality of a cruel world. Truth was buried under layers of falsehoods and misrepresentations. Happiness was a carrot that romance novels dangled in front of a lonely horse.
Love was no more than a myth, an illusion that everyone strived for but never attained. It was a delusional fantasy that didn’t exist. There would be no rapturous ride into the golden sunset because it was all a lie—a big fucking lie.
Another tear fell upon her lips. She tasted it. It was the salty rain of emotion. Her world seemed so dark and desperate. Here she was all alone in her bed in the middle of the night. The cold world had closed in on her. Her only companions were despair and loneliness.
She felt the agony of going through life all by herself. She felt the hopelessness and heartache. It felt like someone had stuck a dagger into her heart. All of her hopes and dreams were bleeding from the hole—gone forever.
The darkness sent her imagination soaring through the night. Joan Dixon’s novels rang of truth and beauty and raging lust. She wondered if her own fairy tale could come true. Could there ever be a day when her prince would show up out of nowhere and sweep her away? Could her dream ever come true?
How she wished Joan Dixon’s sexy character could come to life and be lying next to her now holding her tight. How she wished his strong arms were wrapped around her and whispering how much he loved her.
Sleep was overcoming her. Finally she would take a break from the world that seemed so cruel. For a few sweet hours she could escape a harsh reality. Maybe she would dream about the love she never knew. Perhaps her prince would pay her a visit in her dreams so she could steal some romance from the night.
Just before she shut her eyes she remembered something. It was a tune she had been humming all day. Earlier in the morning she had heard this song on the radio. She had no idea who sang it, but she sure remembered the words. Right now the lyrics seemed appropriate. Jena whispered them one final time as she drifted off to sleep.
I feel I’m slipping away
I feel I’m going mad
I think I’m going crazy
This is all too much
I feel like going under and never coming up
This breath may be my last
And what does it matter anyway
I feel I’m slipping away
I feel I’m going mad
I think I’m going crazy
This is all too much
Chapter 2