When Love is TOXIC

Well many of you have seen me post that I am working on a piece with another author. Someone the one turned into another and I suspect give we are having what we both call “magic” together that we’ll do more. Christian Jensen has been a friend for a couple of years, he’s a talented horror and erotica author, writing under a couple different names (Kat Lexxxington) and he’s been on panels at last year’s Fandomfest with me. Incidentally we are going to be there together in Louisville the end of July sharing a table to sell our books as well as on athlete in chainspanels together so stop by and see us if you’re in the area.

Toxic Leash is our first baby together and trust me when I tell you that this book is not for the feint of heart. It’s not only graphic sexually but it’s a brutal and savage look into the degradation of a human mind – including torture BUT not for merely adding brutality into a piece. I’m going to give you a taste today, but you will never see certain portions on either one of our blogs. It’s simply too horrific. I hope you joy and we’re going to try and get this out soon – just as soon as we both decide on the cover and have it edited so this excerpt is indeed unedited.

Please check out our other books when you have the chance…



“I wanted you to know, I love the way you laugh. I want to hold you….” Throwing her hands back, Danielle tilted her head and screamed into the night sky, her soprano pitch almost perfectly matching the haunting strains of Broken. The song was one she identified with more than any she’d ever heard. “Cause I’m broken…when I’m lonesome…and I don’t feel right when you’re gone…” As the Mercedes veered to the right, banking dangerously close to the guardrail, she laughed before heated tears slipped from her eyes. She yanked the steering wheel and the sounds of squealing tires made her laugh bitterly. Every night was more painful than the one before. She over corrected again, jerking the front end into the oncoming traffic and the honking horns managed to be a distant reminder of her life, her useless, fucking life.

“The worst is over now and we can breathe again…  I want to hold you…to still my pain…”  Sniffling, she shook her head as she pressed on the gas pedal, rubbing the tears away and gasping for air. There was no one who could still her pain. No one who could make this right. Not her life. Not the bullshit of every day. Nothing. Tonight the anguish was too much to bear. Tonight she just wanted all the agonizing thoughts to end. “Cause I’m broken when I’m open, I don’t feel right…” Dropping her head, she could no longer control the cascade of tears, the salty beads dripping into her lap. Her entire body was shaking and she blinked and sobbed, barely able to see the road.

What the fuck had she done tonight? The very thought of touching the sweaty pig, let along fucking him was disgusting, filling her stomach with bile. What the Goddamn shit was wrong with her? Danielle couldn’t help but think she had to be sick. No, she was a fucking monster. Whore. The world continued to flow into the back of her mind and had been more lately. The nightmares had been so intense, so… Stop it! She craned her neck as the darkened night went rushing by; the twinkling stars one tremendous Bad Thingsblur. Speed. She had to have more speed, a crazed adrenaline rush, or she was going to scratch her eyes out.

She weaved in and out of traffic as she turned up the volume on the stereo, allowing the music to scream into the night. “Aaaaahhhh!” The wail primal, she gunned the engine, gripping both hands on the steering wheel as she swerved past the last two cars that stood in her way or nirvana, taking up space and time. They all fucking deserved to die, smashed in a bloody crash, their heads cut off and rolling down the road. She envisioned a tractor-trailer, cruising down the highway, meeting the carnage head on. The subtle “popping” noise in her head, the mere thought how a head might explode under pressure, gave her a series of shivers moving directly into her snatch.

The visions made her smile and she leaned forward, glancing down at the speedometer, giggling like a kid after seeing the thin white line hit ninety. “Woo hoo!” She rounded another sharp curve, savoring the way her pricey sports car handled the steep bank like it was riding on rails. Few people took the dangerous road after dark. So many had lost their lives from careless driving and the effects of alcohol. Mmm… Alcohol. The effects of the three glasses of wine were warming, exhilarating and right now she was the powerful woman she always knew she would be. “Love you daddy!” Love. What did she know about love? There would never be a man good enough for her. Maybe Lee would be the man who would see through her, fills her needs. “Mmm…”

Eyeing the bright red of the stoplight in the distance, she raised her middle finger. She’d blow through the light if she had to. Sadly, Danielle knew if she received another speeding ticket daddy was going to take her keys away. Or so he thought. Then again, daddy didn’t have to find out. He knew very few of her naughty girl secrets. Truth be told, she’d blown more than one cop on the side of the road. A blowjob could cure what ailed most men. The light turned green and she smiled. Nothing was going to stand in her way.

For a few seconds she fantasized about sucking and fucking a real man, not a fat fuck who sat on the couch eating Doritos every day. Yes, she craved a rough-hewn man, one who could fulfill her needs. No, she needed a man that could tame her, smack her around when she crossed the line, which she did every day. Sighing, there was only one man who she could ever entertain allowing complete control.

“Damn it! Goddamn it!” The fucking light had turned red again. This fast? Oh, she was definitely blowing through it. As she floored the engine, she closed the distance to the intersection and the sight of a motorcycle sitting in the turn lane dragged her mind back to reality. God, she loved a man on a bike, a large piece of steel. Thoughts about being taken hard over the back of a Harley remained one of her more intense fantasies. She slowed down and pulled next to the motorcycle, instantly able to tell this was a true Hog. Maybe there was a little eye candy in store for her.

Instantly Danielle noticed there was a second person on the back of the bike, one wearing stiletto heels and a short skirt, the material having crawled all the way up the girl’s thighs. Nonchalantly she turned her head and the sound of the girl laughing, her vroom vroom noises sounding like a prom queen in heat, made Danielle snarl. She clenched the wheel and inched the car forward, concentrating on the hulking mass driving the bike. She loved a man with strong shoulders and this guy had it in spades.

Licking her lips, she turned up the radio until she knew the heady rock music rivaled the pulsing engine of the Harley. She could feel the deep rumble in her pussy. Hungry, she had to see what the guy looked like. Even the little bit she could see turned her on. He was living dangerously, helmet free, just the way she liked. A man who took no shit, challenged authority and knew how to push every envelope was the guy for her. Purring, she couldn’t help but allow her gaze to travel own the length of him. The tight jeans and cowboy boots sure as shit suited the brute persona. “Mmm… Delicious. Turn your head, sweet boy.” Sure enough, Danielle got her way.

As the girl continued to giggle, her hands sliding up and down the guy’s chest, finally Take mesettling directly on his crotch, the hunk tilted his head, looking directly at Danielle.

She sucked in her breath, her pulse instantly racing. Mother fucker. The sight of Leslie stunned her. Why? Why the hell would seeing him here, in the freaking middle of the night, with a bimbo draped around his body surprise her? Then again, why the hell should she care?

For a few seconds he looked at her, his eyes flashing as a smile curled across his lip. He nodded and gave her a heated look, one that screamed savage. Oh God. Oh God. You can fuck me any time you want. She prayed she hadn’t said the words out loud.

As if reading her mind, Leslie shifted his eyes down and back up, his look becoming more carnal. The light turned green, yet he remained staring at her, his eyes never blinking.

The connection, the tethering, had been growing these last weeks and she could barely control herself around him. Thoughts were of submitting to his every desire. A bead of perspiration trickled down the back of her neck, but he was never going to have the privilege of seeing her sweat. He was the hired help after all. The stare down continued for another minute until the harlot slapped him on the back before darting a nasty glance in her direction.

Danielle didn’t need to hear the bitch’s words to know she was pissed. Good. Fucking good. As Leslie revved the engine, his eyes never leaving hers, she gave him a haughty nod and roared down the highway. She was top dog after all. Take that you slug.

Barely thirty minutes later she stood in front of the expansive mirror, studying her reflection, the ugliness of her face. Her tears had derailed her make-up, black streams of color crisscrossing her face like scars of hate, self loathing. She swallowed hard and gripped the counter, unable to stop sobbing. For all the bravado and all the bullshit, the money and clout, nothing made her happy.

She watched the tears hitting the sink and shifted her gaze toward the single razor blade carefully placed on the counter. Her hand shaking, she pressed the tip of her index finger across the cool metal, picking up on the tiny ridges and indents in the slender steel. Humming softly to herself, she bit her lower lip as she thought about Leslie, the way he looked at her, his eyes so knowing. Yeah, she had a feeling he could see right through all her bullshit. Then why didn’t he do something about it? Why didn’t he come on to her?

Danielle bit back a sob and picked up the razor. She was a hot woman, gorgeous to some. He was just a two bit asshole, a greasy mechanic. Of course she was way above his station. Leslie was nothing but a laborer, a man with dirt under his nails and grease permeating his skin. He wasn’t sophisticated or gorgeous. Nope. Not at all. Then why did he fill her every dream?

Holding up the razor she smiled. “Just one tiny cut won’t hurt.” The instant she sliced the sharp edge across her arm, relief flooded her system.


Within our everyday lives we encounter Monstrosities. Beasts that can rip, tear, crush and maim. They torture and kill as they destroy innocence and leave their own special kind of hell. Usually these fiends are kept at bay within the structures and confines of normal, polite society but how long can we hide behind that façade when all humanity is stripped away and we’re left with nothing but the stark mirror of reality?

Danielle Rivers had it all. Expensive cars, an overflowing wardrobe, luxurious jewelry, and the kind of privileged life only true wealth could provide. She deserved it after all. Daddy was old money, one of the most powerful and prominent men in East Brunswick, New Jersey. Haughty and opinionated, Danielle didn’t hesitate to make certain those beneath her understood their station in life – especially the greasy mechanics who worked in all of her father’s dealerships. They were playthings, nothing more than little people meant to serve her every whim. What no one knew was that beneath the mask of perfection and meticulously manicured grace was a very broken little girl. As her façade begins to crumble under the weight of everyday life Danielle finds it increasingly difficult to hide from the monster that had tortured not only her body and mind, but her very soul. What Danielle didn’t know was that her tenuous hold was about to be broken.

Leslie Fernandez was a loner. Some considered him to be a dangerous man, others a powerful friend. He refused to take a backseat to anyone, least of all that haughty bitch Danielle. He hated the way she would swoop in and leave destruction and pain in her wake, pushing everyone to the breaking point. In his eyes, Danielle was nothing more than a spoiled bitch, a calculating viper who got her kicks by ruining good people. So why was he so inexplicably drawn to her?

When thrust into the epicenter of a horrible tragedy, one created by the very woman he so vehemently detests and yet is so enigmatically drawn to, he allows his own fiendish, black eyed demon to take the reins.

The torturous nightmares of their respective pasts drew these two damaged souls together like ships adrift in a sea of violence and abuse. The wounds contained within their diseased minds scream to be healed, but is there such a cure for the sickness within ones soul? There is only one possible option, but will either of them have the courage to break free from their own TOXIC LEASH?

I hope you enjoyed…

Kisses   xxx


About Cassandre Dayne

Cassandre Dayne is the pseudo for the best selling author of romantic suspense and thrillers
This entry was posted in Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s