The only way to save the man everybody wants is to claim him for herself.
Johnny’s well-known for his uninhibited performances, and his electrifying show at the summer’s biggest music festival leaves fellow popstar Mira desperate for a more intimate performance. It looks like her lust will finally be satisfied—and if his bandmate Lee wants to join them, so much the better.
But Mira’s not the only one who wants Johnny. A greedy fairy queen, angry that the festival is being held in her realm, takes the submissive frontman captive. Armed only with the power of her own passion, Mira must face the dangers of an enchanted forest—and confront her darkest desires—in order to take him back for herself.
“The Festival Spirit takes sultry and erotic passion on the Solstice night to a thrilling level.”
“For a short novel, the characters were fully realized with their own unique flaws and desires. I would eagerly read more work from this talented author. For a sexy read where a crush turns into a real-life fantasy, The Festival Spirit is sure to entertain.”
Four teacups: Happily Ever After Reviews
Lee hummed, a warm, approving noise. His hands slid up over her bare arms and shoulders to caress the nape of her neck. She looked over his shoulder for Johnny, but he’d been drawn into another group of dancers. “He keeps getting away,” she complained.
Lee’s mouth paused along the line of her throat before he licked fire against her pulse point. “He’ll be back,” Lee said, clearly unconcerned.
The beat of the music changed, going from frantic dance to something more primal. Lee’s arms hooked her, held her tight and she twirled against his body, swaying to the music with him. He took her mouth in a slow, erotic kiss. Her tongue moved slickly against his, and he swallowed the low, needy moans she couldn’t quite control.
Out of sight of the other dancers, Mira palmed the thick bulk of his cock where it strained against the fly of his jeans. “You wanna—” she started, but he rode her hand a little, grunting softly into her ear before biting her lobe and sending the words spinning out of her head.
“You want me, Mira?” Lee’s question was a velvet rasp against the music. His hands were on her ass, moving the gauzy dress in slow, dirty circles that brought the fabric higher and higher up her thighs.
Fractured, slideshow memories of their three-day marathon burst across her mind—his head between her legs, sucking at her clit; straddling him as he reclined against the hotel pillows, riding his cock while he told her exactly how to move; sprawled facedown on his bed while he stroked between her thighs and licked her crease.
“Yeah,” she encouraged when his hands dipped underneath her hem to fondle her backside. His fingers plucked at her knickers, teasing her that he might yank them aside. “Mmm, yes.” She knew she should care that people could see, but she didn’t.
“You want Johnny?”
Drowning in the pleasure of his handling of her, the question didn’t register at first. Not until he moved them so she could see where Johnny was moving to the music.
“Yeah.” Because, oh, fuck, did she want him. “Yeah, I want him.” She felt the golden trail of the drink Lee had given her earlier warming the back of her throat, all the way down what felt like her boneless spine.
“Good,” Lee muttered, and kissed her hard, his breath coming heavily. He rubbed his finger gently between her ass cheeks—it was damp there from the exertion of their dancing, from the closeness of the evening—and she melted against him in reaction.
– from The Festival Spirit by Rachel Randall. All rights reserved.
(read another excerpt here.)
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Here’s another way to enjoy The Festival Spirit—my musical recommendations to go with your read. Find the playlist on Spotify here.