A storyteller at heart and whether entertaining, educating, speaking or writing, I’m passionate about life and sharing it with everyone.
I write sensual adult love stories with a twist, featuring empowered heroines who live life to the fullest on their terms, facilitated by the divine feminine.
Having been a dancer myself I wanted to introduce the world of dance to my readers through my erotic romance series,The Dance of Love. The first book Dancing Queen takes the ready on a heady ride of life, love and erotic pleasure to a surprising happy-ever-after.
Let’s Get To Know Diane Demetre
Q: What fictional character would you punch if the face if you thought you could get away with it without going to jail?
A: Anastasia Steele from Fifty Shades of Grey. I just wanted to shake some sense into her.
Q: Pick a super-power and tell us what you’d do with it.
A: To be able to tell the future accurately and use this to help others choose more rewarding directions in their life.
Q: What’s your favorite AND least favorite thing about being a writer/author?
A: My most favorite part of being an author is leaving a legacy of books that have entertained and/or educated people. My least favorite part is not having enough hours in the days to get it all done.
About Dancing Queen by Diane Demetre
One woman … Two men … A dance of love that lasts a lifetime
When Michele Johnston, a sexy forty-two-year-old ex-dancer from the Moulin Rouge gets divorced, she leaps into her new world of singledom with unbridled passion. Having been in monogamous relationships all her life, she decides to cast off her inhibitions and release her repressed sexuality through casual sex.
Aided and abetted by three vivacious girlfriends, Michele embarks on her new 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. Although not her type, Michele finds his charm and persistence strangely bewitching.
But will she give up her newfound freedom?
Will she choose one man over the other?
And who’s the special someone she’s been unconsciously searching for all her life?
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.
My favorite quote from Dancing Queen is:
I have lots of favorites, but this one always makes me chuckle….
With a smile twitching his lips, he initiated the conversation. “You’re the horniest thing I’ve seen in years. So tell me, why are you chasing pencil dicks?”