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Eva2Y’all know I’m a Penny Dreadful fan, and I’m sorry the show has ended. But it gave us lots of great performances that are memorable, such as Rory Kinnear’s Frankenstein’s monster and of course Reeve Carney’s Dorian Grey.

In keeping with the Halloween theme, I chose the Portrait of Dorian Grey as a starting point, but turned the story on it’s head. The main character is no longer a man but a woman. A Regency-era socially upstanding widow named Dorian Clements.

In this hot little story, Dorian sits for a portrait and when it’s delivered her life changes dramatically! It seems her innermost desires are played out on the canvas until she fears she might have gone mad. But indeed she hasn’t, she’s only being manipulated by a sex-hungry demon. An Earl no less. A dark and mysterious man who’s offering her a life of lust and sexual fulfillment, but it’s a limited time offer – good on All Hallow’s Eve only!

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The Portrait of Dorian Clements by Eva Lefoy

In Regency England, a rich widow has her portrait painted by a strange traveling artist, not knowing he’s the minion of the demon intent on seducing her. The painting at first seems perfectly normal, but then begins to change, depicting myriad graphic sexual scenes, displaying to her horror the widow’s innermost desires…

Exclusive Excerpt:

Not waiting for the lightening to strike again she hurried to the door and turned the handle. It was after all her home, so her lack of knocking could hardly be seen as bad manners. Throwing open the door she cried, “Millie!”

But as her gaze took in the splendor of the room she noted with horror the occupants were certainly not Millie. They weren’t even properly dressed. A very naked Earl of Essex chased an equally stripped bare Esther Hawthorne through the room. From Esther’s delighted shrieks and the Earl’s furiously bobbing rock hard cock she guessed exactly what game they played. Horrified at intruding, she backed up a step only to be thrust against a hard wall of masculine muscle. The arm that came around her midriff to hold her in place boasted a hand wearing the signet of the Earl of Somerset.

She stilled and forgot how to breathe.

“There you are, my dear. I’ve been wondering when you’d show up.” The deep timbre of his voice settled her nerves like chocolate and champagne. Bubbly and exotic, she found she liked the sound of it very much. He gave her a little squeeze and shut the door behind them. The lock snicked shut with a click. “You’re late. It’s nearly midnight and we are running out of time.”

She found herself spun around in his arms but as she traveled she happened to glance up at the fireplace. There, above the mantle hung her painting, showing a very decadent scene. This time the Earl stood without a stitch on as Dorian knelt at his feet, his tallywag stuffed between her rosy lips. Oh lord. I’d give anything to do that to him. Cheeks flushed, she looked away from the painting and directly into the Earl’s eyes. She was immediately trapped by the fire in his gaze.

“Do you like what see, Dorian?” he asked, trailing a caress down her cheek. “Would you like me to do those things to you? Hmm?”

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