One woman. Two men. Threesomes change everything.
When Michele Johnston, a forty-two-year-old ex-dancer from the Moulin Rouge gets divorced, she leaps into her new world of singledom with unbridled passion.
Aided and abetted by three vivacious girlfriends, Michele embarks on her steamy, erotic adventures, but gets more than she expects when mysterious yacht captain Mark Miller unleashes her wanton desires.
Further complicating matters, debonair Greek businessman Nick Stavros arrives on the scene and falls madly in love with her, promising the happy-ever-after ending. But will she give up her newfound freedom? Will she choose one man over the other? Or can she continue loving them both?
Dancing Queen is the first stand-alone book in Diane Demetre’s genre-busting erotic romance series, the Dance of Love. If you love strong heroes, hot sex, and feisty heroines, don’t miss this page-turning love story with a twist.
Reader Advisory: This book contains a sexually empowered heroine and willing men to fulfill her desires. Casual sex scenes with recreational drug use.
4.5 STARS: Manic Readers Reviews
Michele, a former pro dancer, has finally extricated herself from a very unsatisfying marriage, & is ready for a chance to kick up her heels, sexually & emotionally.
Intent on a one night stand, she finds, instead, Mark, a most inventive & attentive lover, something she has never experienced before. As she falls in love with him, against her better judgement, she finds that he has way too many secrets that threaten to derail their fledgling relationship.
By the time Nick inserts himself into her life, insisting he is just her type, deapite her thoughts to the contrary, Mark has disappeared & bad people are after both him & Michele. Under Nick’s protection, Michele finally figures out what she wants from life, in a very good heroine’s journey.
I’m not sure if I liked the conclusion of the story, & you can make up your own mind about that. However, in the meantime, there’s an abundance of very hot sex, & the love of a good man.
Review by Alberta Manic Readers Reviews
AUS ROM TODAY REVIEW
What AusRom Today thought:
A refreshing genre-busting story of a divorced, older (I hasten to add by society’s standards not mine) heroine who is determined to embrace her singledom while simultaneously casting aside her self- and societally-imposed sexual repression through casual erotic encounters.
Diane Demetre offers a story that challenges our pre-conceived notions of what “women of a certain age” should or should not be doing and she does this in an empowering manner. The heroine embraces and cherishes her female friendships and though this aided in the flow of the plot, it also highlights the importance for women of having encouraging and supportive female companionship.
Most importantly, we see the heroine herself allow the experiences of her new-found freedom to shape her own future thus enabling her to escape the repressive nature of her pre-divorce life.
All in all, an erotic and exciting read sure to captivate and thrill readers of any age.
Review by Jaimee Brooker AUS ROM TODAY
Gift-wrapping herself in his embrace, she gave up everything, the years of longing, frustration and rejection. Her passion found a stage on which to shine as the music enlivened her dancer’s body, giving art to her performance. With eager fingers, she began to unbutton his shirt, exposing his tight chest and abs which he displayed with quiet confidence. Like Poseidon, he was master of his domain and she wanted to venerate at his feet. Following the tempo of the music, she bent forward, licking and sucking at his flesh. He tasted delicious and he wanted her, his desire unmistakable. She was moist and ready, but he softly pushed her away. “Dance for me. Please?”
Without hesitation, she uncoiled herself and stepped back, her eyes never leaving his. Preparing for a command performance she drew a controlled inhale and abandoned herself to the erotic rhythms filling the cabin. Her body transmuted the music into subtle shades of movement and stillness, motion morphed into emotion, connecting the dancer and the audience in an inseparable coupling. Grinding her hips against an imaginary dance partner, she knew how to make herself irresistible to her new lover, and like an elastic band she stretched their desire to breaking point with every move she made.
Trailing her hands over her body she danced without restraint, rubbing her fingers between her legs with deep fluid strokes. As an appreciative smile etched across his face, she tossed back her hair, challenging him with an unspoken promise of the sex-play yet to come. Then dragging her hand from her warm place, she waved her pheromones under his nose, tempting him with an aromatic appetizer. He inhaled deeply, delighting in her scent and performance. The embodiment of her perfect audience, he was a man who enjoyed watching her get off on the dance.
In a torturous slow peel of her top, she exposed her tanned, taut belly, extending her arms upward like vines crawling to the canopy. On tempo, she discarded the garment, arched her body and slipped her hand down into her jeans to her sex. Wet with juice she removed her fingers then brushed them across his lips. Savoring them as if dipped in an expensive wine, his tongue curled around each digit in delight, seducing her fingers to remain in his hot mouth where they could be sucked to climax. Although tempted, she maneuvered her hand to freedom on a crescendo and with a peacock flourish, she turned to expose her sculptured back, unclipping her bra yet not allowing it to fall.
With each slow swallow of his drink he took, she stripped a little more, shedding fragments of her past with every piece of clothing puddled on the floor. Rivers of relief began to surge through her body as she flowed headlong into her new reality.
Straddling him she slithered from her bra, cupping her plump breasts in her hands, offering each for his caress. As he obliged with warm, wet kisses their bodies steamed and his manhood raged. Feeling little pity for his cock trapped in the prison of his Levi’s, she slipped from his lap. Then with meticulous timing she unzipped her jeans and peeled them down to her boots, turned, and bent in a full forward fold to expose her naked arse and slippery sex. His greedy fingers stretched out to stroke her wetness as she unzipped her boots for the final reveal. At last, she was naked, dancing untamed, empowered by the music and her emancipated sexuality.
He pulled her to him and licked her navel in a slow, fluid stroke. Looking down at her naked feet he said, “What about the boots? Dancers never take off their high heels?”
“Really?” Reclining on the lounge, she pulled her boots back on in an equally provocative reverse strip. With a languorous développé, she straddled him, settling her weight onto his lap. Her faultless tousled hairstyle now dripped with perspiration which trickled down her body, coursing an uninterrupted path to her fully waxed mons. Mesmerized, his eyes followed the tiny rivulets as his hands crept up her thighs, like desert snakes retreating to a cool cave.
Blocking his advance she purred, “So you got what you wanted. Now it’s my turn.”
Undeterred his exploratory mission had been thwarted, he said, “Your wish is my command.” He began to shrug his shirt off, but she slipped off his lap.
“Another drink please, no ice.”
Collecting her glass, he returned to his duty at the bar. As he stood and mixed more drinks, she encircled him with her arms, grinding her yearning nakedness against his clothed back. He turned with his offering and she took a couple of steps back and positioned herself prone on the elegant teak table.