Happy Mardi Gras

 

Today is Mardi Gras y'all. Celebrate all things New Orleans and take a look at my erotic and atmospheric romance that takes place there in current times and also in the heyday of Storyville, a New Orleans' 19th century brothel district where our heroine falls in love with an alluring piano player who bears a striking resemblance to Jelly Roll Morton.

Here’s an excerpt:

I asked the sexy Creole young man, “Where are you taking me?"

We’re going to Storyville.  That’s where I live.”

“Storyville?  You mean the famous red-light district?”

“Yes.”

“I’ve read about it.  Storyville doesn’t exist anymore.  Are we going back in time?”

“Yes.  Back to 1899.”

“Wow!  This is weird, but exciting, too.”  I couldn’t believe it.  “Wow!” I said again.

“I hope you like it.”

“What do you do there in Storyville?”

“I play piano in some of the brothels.”

“Wow!  That’s where Louis Armstrong and Jelly Roll Morton got their start!”

“You know about them?”

“Yeah.  My grandfather likes jazz.”

“If you like jazz, you’ve come to the right place.”

I could hear music playing in the distance.  Before he opened the door, he said, “Are you ready to go back to 1899 with me?”

“Sure.  I’d follow you anywhere.”

He opened the door, and we went down some stairs. He opened another door and I saw a barely recognizable Basin Street.  Back then, it had railroad tracks running down the middle of the street.  People were scurrying about wearing Victorian-era clothing.  There were two-storied stately mansions, some adorned with turrets and cupolas, lining the street.  Some of the houses had naked women hanging out of the upper floor windows trying to tempt the men on the street to come inside and join them.  There were saloons and gambling parlors.

He said, “We’re going to the Mahogany House.”

“Okay,” I answered, ready for anything.

“Have you ever heard of Lulu White?”

“No.  Who is she?”

“She runs this place,” he said as we walked up to the door of a large mansion.  “It’s a lot nicer than some of the brothels down here.  It even has a marble staircase and two parlors.”

He opened a door and I saw half-dressed women sitting in a parlor talking to men.  A pianist in the corner was playing ragtime music.

He led me up the marble staircase and we came to a room.  I didn’t know what surprises he had in store for me next.  It was all so thrilling!

We entered a very plush bedroom filled with antiques.  It had a large crystal chandelier in the middle of the ceiling.  At first, I didn’t notice her: I was too busy looking at him and the dazzling interior. Then, I saw her—a red-headed young woman sitting up in a four-poster bed.  She was wearing a dressing gown that barely covered her large breasts.  I looked at him with fire in my eyes and said, “What’s this all about?!  Why are we here?”

He told me, “I wanted you to meet Lily, my wife.”

“Your wife!” I shouted.  “You never told me you were married!”  I was about ready to murder him.

Defensively, he answered, “I do have a past, you know.  I don’t exist in a vacuum.   I’ve known Lily since I was a child.  We grew up together.”

“Is she a prostitute?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re never jealous about her having sex with other men?”

“It’s all we’ve ever known.  We have an understanding.”

With building anger, I shoved his chest and yelled, “I want to go home.  I don’t like you anymore.”

He gripped my hands, trying to get me to stay.  I was surprised when he said, “Don’t be jealous.  I’m not going to be having sex with her. You are.”

He winked at me. I told myself, now I get it. He wants to watch. Well, I’ll put on quite a show, if that’s what he desires.  

###

Do you want to read more? This erotic story is available at Amazon, Apple, Barnes and Noble, Google Play, Kobo and Smashwords.

Here's the Amazon link:

https://www.amazon.com/Storyville-Time-Travel-Romance-Maggie-May-ebook/dp/B01LWLZ3AK

Mardi Gras, New Orleans, Storyville, Erotic Romance

 

Can't go to New Orleans and be part of the festivities? Why not be an armchair traveler and read "Storyville: A Time Travel Erotic Romance" instead? It takes place in New Orleans and is a travel time tale about a young woman who moves to New Orleans and falls in love with a seductive ghost who once played the piano in the brothels there during the late 1800s.

Here’s an excerpt:

I asked the sexy Creole young man, “Where are you taking me?"

We’re going to Storyville.  That’s where I live.”

“Storyville?  You mean the famous red-light district?”

“Yes.”

“I’ve read about it.  Storyville doesn’t exist anymore.  Are we going back in time?”

“Yes.  Back to 1899.”

“Wow!  This is weird, but exciting, too.”  I couldn’t believe it.  “Wow!” I said again.

“I hope you like it.”

“What do you do there in Storyville?”

“I play piano in some of the brothels.”

“Wow!  That’s where Louis Armstrong and Jelly Roll Morton got their start!”

“You know about them?”

“Yeah.  My grandfather likes jazz.”

“If you like jazz, you’ve come to the right place.”

I could hear music playing in the distance.  Before he opened the door, he said, “Are you ready to go back to 1899 with me?”

“Sure.  I’d follow you anywhere.”

He opened the door, and we went down some stairs. He opened another door and I saw a barely recognizable Basin Street.  Back then, it had railroad tracks running down the middle of the street.  People were scurrying about wearing Victorian-era clothing.  There were two-storied stately mansions, some adorned with turrets and cupolas, lining the street.  Some of the houses had naked women hanging out of the upper floor windows trying to tempt the men on the street to come inside and join them.  There were saloons and gambling parlors.

He said, “We’re going to the Mahogany House.”

“Okay,” I answered, ready for anything.

“Have you ever heard of Lulu White?”

“No.  Who is she?”

“She runs this place,” he said as we walked up to the door of a large mansion.  “It’s a lot nicer than some of the brothels down here.  It even has a marble staircase and two parlors.”

He opened a door and I saw half-dressed women sitting in a parlor talking to men.  A pianist in the corner was playing ragtime music.

He led me up the marble staircase and we came to a room.  I didn’t know what surprises he had in store for me next.  It was all so thrilling!

We entered a very plush bedroom filled with antiques.  It had a large crystal chandelier in the middle of the ceiling.  At first, I didn’t notice her: I was too busy looking at him and the dazzling interior. Then, I saw her—a red-headed young woman sitting up in a four-poster bed.  She was wearing a dressing gown that barely covered her large breasts.  I looked at him with fire in my eyes and said, “What’s this all about?!  Why are we here?”

He told me, “I wanted you to meet Lily, my wife.”

“Your wife!” I shouted.  “You never told me you were married!”  I was about ready to murder him.

Defensively, he answered, “I do have a past, you know.  I don’t exist in a vacuum.   I’ve known Lily since I was a child.  We grew up together.”

“Is she a prostitute?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re never jealous about her having sex with other men?”

“It’s all we’ve ever known.  We have an understanding.”

With building anger, I shoved his chest and yelled, “I want to go home.  I don’t like you anymore.”

He gripped my hands, trying to get me to stay.  I was surprised when he said, “Don’t be jealous.  I’m not going to be having sex with her. You are.”

He winked at me. I told myself, now I get it. He wants to watch. Well, I’ll put on quite a show, if that’s what he desires.  
###

Do you want to read more? This erotic story is available at Amazon, Apple, Barnes and Noble, Google Play, Kobo and Smashwords.

Here's the Amazon link:

https://www.amazon.com/Storyville-Time-Travel-Romance-Maggie-May-ebook/dp/B01LWLZ3AK

Mardi Gras

 

Happy Mardi Gras! 

Take a trip to Storyville, New Orleans with this erotic story that partially takes place in a brothel there.

Here’s a sexy excerpt from Storyville: A Time Travel Erotic Romance:

“Where are we going?” I asked as Jan Baptise led me towards his family plot.

“We’re going to Storyville.  That’s where I live.”

“Storyville?  You mean the famous red-light district?”

“Yes.”

“I’ve read about it.  Storyville doesn’t exist anymore.  Are we going back in time?”

“Yes.  Back to 1899.”

“Wow!  This is weird, but exciting, too.”  I couldn’t believe it.  “Wow!” I said again.

“I hope you like it.”

“What do you do there in Storyville?”

“I play piano in some of the brothels.”

“Wow!  That’s where Louis Armstrong and Jelly Roll Morton got their start!”

“You know about them?”

“Yeah.  My grandfather likes jazz.”

“If you like jazz, you’ve come to the right place.”

I could hear music playing in the distance.  Before he opened the door, he said, “Are you ready to go back to 1899 with me?”

“Sure.  I’d follow you anywhere.”

He opened the door, and we went down some stairs. He opened another door and I saw a barely recognizable Basin Street.  Back then, it had railroad tracks running down the middle of the street.  

People were scurrying about wearing Victorian-era clothing.  There were two-storied stately mansions, some adorned with turrets and cupolas, lining the street.  Some of the houses had naked women hanging out of the upper floor windows trying to tempt the men on the street to come inside and join them.  There were saloons and gambling parlors.

He said, “We’re going to the Mahogany House.”

“Okay,” I answered, ready for anything.

“Have you ever heard of Lulu White?”

“No.  Who is she?”

“She runs this place,” he said as we walked up to the door of a large mansion.  “It’s a lot nicer than some of the brothels down here.  It even has a marble staircase and two parlors.”

He opened a door and I saw half-dressed women sitting in a parlor talking to men.  A pianist in the corner was playing ragtime music.

Jan led me up the marble staircase and we came to a room.  I didn’t know what surprises he had in store for me next.  It was all so thrilling!

###

Want to read more? Here’s where you can get the entire story. It’s only 99 cents and is available at the major online bookstores:

Amazon Link:

https://amzn.to/3lWe954

 

Ghost Story

 

Do you believe in ghosts?

My main character in Storyville: A Time Travel Erotic Romance falls in love with one. 

In my erotic romance, my female main character lives across the street from the St. Louis Cemetery where, one night, she hears ragtime music coming from the cemetery and sees transparent figures dancing in the moonlight. She can’t resist following the music, and what ensues is her meeting and falling in love with an alluring Creole piano player from the past who introduces her to the enticing times of Storyville, New Orleans’ 19th-century red-light district.

I love New Orleans and have visited there many times. I admire the French Quarter’s unique architecture, the rich history of jazz musicians who played and still play there, and the atmosphere of the city’s creepy yet beautiful cemeteries. 

I think it would be so interesting to be able to go back in time and listen to all the great musicians who played in the brothels of Storyville. It was there where brilliant pianist Jelly Roll Morton got his start and a young Louis Armstrong earned money by hauling coal to the brothels when he wasn’t playing the coronet in their parlors. 

When I wrote Storyville: A Time Travel Erotic Romance, I had Jelly Roll Morton in mind when I created the male main character, a sexy Creole man who lived in the late 1890s and played in one of Storyville’s brothels. 

Here are some 5-star reviews for my story:

"A wonderfully atmospheric erotic romance. As a lover of all things New Orleans, it was hard to ignore this one. It’s the story of a young woman's introduction to the heady times of Storyville with help from a unique guide (no spoiler here!) who lovingly shows her the magic of years gone by."

"A well written and heartwarming ghost story, truly romantic and also quite erotic.”

"It's the sort of story I can see coming back to time and again and enjoying it each time.”

"I must be Maggie May's biggest fan.  Her stories are so well-written it feels like you are in the scene with the characters! Storyville is a ghostly tale which explores many aspects of supernatural sexuality and is fast-paced and fun to read."

“Their love for each other is felt immediately. He helps Roxy adjust to life in the Quarter as well as in his life. He teaches her things about herself and shows her how by letting go the impossible can happen. I really liked how the author describes their time together, the love scenes are explicit and very well-written.”

Would you like to read Storyville: A Time Travel Erotic Romance?

It is sexually explicit and for adults only. Costing only 99 cents, it’s available at most online bookstores. Here are the purchase links:

Amazon: http://amzn.to/2h44HHO

Apple: http://apple.co/2xKgz95

Barnes and Noble: http://bit.ly/2wGbGRL

Google Play: https://bit.ly/2cQy4wA

Smashwords: http://bit.ly/2cm81tf

Kobo: http://bit.ly/2wL5NTy

Mardi Gras

 Today is Mardi Gras and I do love New Orleans.  I’ve been to the city many times over the years and was inspired to write this time travel erotic romance that partly takes place in the 19th-century brothels there.

Here’s an excerpt:

“Where are we going?” I asked as Jan Baptise led me towards his family plot.

“We’re going to Storyville.  That’s where I live.”

“Storyville?  You mean the famous red-light district?”

“Yes.”

“I’ve read about it.  Storyville doesn’t exist anymore.  Are we going back in time?”

“Yes.  Back to 1899.”

“Wow!  This is weird, but exciting, too.”  I couldn’t believe it.  “Wow!” I said again.

“I hope you like it.”

“What do you do there in Storyville?”

“I play piano in some of the brothels.”

“Wow!  That’s where Louis Armstrong and Jelly Roll Morton got their start!”

“You know about them?”

“Yeah.  My grandfather likes jazz.”

“If you like jazz, you’ve come to the right place.”

I could hear music playing in the distance.  Before he opened the door, he said, “Are you ready to go back to 1899 with me?”

“Sure.  I’d follow you anywhere.”

He opened the door, and we went down some stairs. He opened another door and I saw a barely recognizable Basin Street.  Back then, it had railroad tracks running down the middle of the street.  People were scurrying about wearing Victorian-era clothing.  There were two-storied stately mansions, some adorned with turrets and cupolas, lining the street.  Some of the houses had naked women hanging out of the upper floor windows trying to tempt the men on the street to come inside and join them.  There were saloons and gambling parlors.

He said, “We’re going to the Mahogany House.”

“Okay,” I answered, ready for anything.

“Have you ever heard of Lulu White?”

“No.  Who is she?”

“She runs this place,” he said as we walked up to the door of a large mansion.  “It’s a lot nicer than some of the brothels down here.  It even has a marble staircase and two parlors.”

He opened a door and I saw half-dressed women sitting in a parlor talking to men.  A pianist in the corner was playing ragtime music.

Jan led me up the marble staircase and we came to a room.  I didn’t know what surprises he had in store for me next.  It was all so thrilling!

###

Want to read more? Here’s where you can get the entire story. It’s only 99 cents and is available at the major online bookstores:

Amazon Link:

https://amzn.to/3K4dhSA

 

An Erotic Romance That Takes Place in the 19th Century Brothels of New Orleans

 

I love New Orleans and have visited there many times.  I’m a fan of the city’s unique architecture, cuisine, the rich history of jazz musicians who played and still play there, and the atmosphere of its creepy yet beautiful cemeteries.

I think it would be so interesting to be able to go back in time and listen to all the great musicians who played in the brothels of Storyville, New Orleans’ 19th-century red-light district. It was there where brilliant pianist Jelly Roll Morton got his start. A young Louis Armstrong earned money by hauling coal to the brothels and saloons there.

When I wrote Storyville: A Time Travel Erotic Romance, I had Jelly Roll Morton in mind when I created the male main character, a sexy Creole man who plays in one of Storyville’s brothels, meets a young woman from modern times and takes her on a trip back in time to the late 1800s.

I’ve been lucky to have sold over 100 copies of this erotic ghost story and I have received some of my best reviews ever with this tale.

Here are what some reviewers have said about my book:

"A well written and heartwarming ghost story, truly romantic and also quite erotic.”

"It's the sort of story I can see coming back to time and again and enjoying it each time. I would like reading more from Maggie May about these characters, but you know, this story may be right just the way it is."

"I must be Maggie May's biggest fan.  Her stories are so well-written it feels like you are in the scene with the characters! Storyville is a ghostly tale which explores many aspects of supernatural sexuality and is fast-paced and fun to read."

"A wonderfully atmospheric erotic romance. As a lover of all things New Orleans, it was hard to ignore this one. It’s the story of a young woman's introduction to the heady times of Storyville with help from a unique guide (no spoiler here!) who lovingly shows her the magic of years gone by."

“Their love for each other is felt immediately. He helps Roxy adjust to life in the Quarter as well as in his life. He teaches her things about herself and shows her how by letting go the impossible can happen. I really liked how the author describes their time together, the love scenes are explicit and very well-written.”

 Would you like to read it? It’s for Adults Only and is sexually explicit. It only costs 99 cents and is available at the following online bookstores:

Amazon: http://amzn.to/2h44HHO

Apple: http://apple.co/2xKgz95

BN: http://bit.ly/2wGbGRL

Google Play: https://bit.ly/2cQy4wA

Smashwords: http://bit.ly/2cm81tf

Kobo: http://bit.ly/2wL5NTy

An Erotic Ghost Story

 

Storyville: An Erotic Time Travel Romance

by Maggie May

Just in time for Halloween. An erotic ghost story that takes place in the bordellos of New Orleans' former red-light district.

Only 99 cents. Adults Only.

Here's a sexy excerpt:

"A week passed, and I still hadn’t seen Jan Baptiste.  I was beginning to think I’d imagined him, due to all the moonlight-and-magnolias’ scenarios that had been clouding my mind. It didn’t make any sense.  What was he doing in the cemetery?  Was he a ghost?  How weird is that?!  On Saturday night, I heard ragtime music again.  I wasn’t sure if it was coming from the cemetery or not.  I put my robe on and ran across the street to look through the fence to see if Jan was there.  As I was looking, I felt a cold presence behind me.  I quickly turned around, and there was my Jan.  I threw my arms around his neck and showered him with kisses.

He pulled away and said, “Come with me.  I want to show you something.”  I followed him around the fence and we came to a place that was opened enough for both of us to get through.  “Are you frightened?” he asked.

“Not when I’m with you.”

He took my hand and led me to a burial vault.  He pointed to one of the names on the family plot.

I asked, “That’s you?!  So, you are a ghost?”

“I’m afraid so.”

I tried wrapping my mind around what he’d just said.  It was hard to believe.  I didn’t know if ghosts really existed.

He showed me some stairs leading down to the vault.  “Follow me.”

“Have I died, too?” I asked him.

“No.  You’re very much among the living.”  He pointed to a door.

“Where are we going?” I asked as he led me towards it. 

“We’re going to Storyville.  That’s where I live.”

“Storyville?  You mean the famous red-light district?”

“Yes.”

“I’ve read about it.  Storyville doesn’t exist anymore.  Are we going back in time?”

“Yes.  Back to 1899.”

Wow!  This is weird, but exciting, too.  I couldn’t believe it.  “Wow!” I said again.

“I hope you like it.”

“What do you do there in Storyville?”

“I play piano in some of the brothels.”

“Wow!  That’s where Louis Armstrong and Jelly Roll Morton got their start!”

“You know about them?”

“Yeah.  My grandfather likes jazz.”

“If you like jazz, you’ve come to the right place.”

I could hear music playing in the distance.  Before he opened the door, he said, “Are you ready to go back to 1899 with me?”

“Sure.  I’d follow you anywhere.”

He opened the door and I beheld a barely-recognizable Basin Street.  Back then, it had railroad tracks running down the middle of the street.  People were scurrying about wearing Victorian-era clothing.  There were two-storied stately mansions, some adorned with turrets and cupolas, lining the street.  Some of the houses had naked women hanging out of the upper floor windows trying to tempt the men on the street to come inside and join them.  There were saloons and gambling parlors.

He said, “We’re going to the Mahogany House.”

“Okay,” I answered, ready for anything.

“Have you ever heard of Lulu White?”

“No.  Who is she?”

“She runs this place,” he said as we walked up to the door of a large mansion.  “It’s a lot nicer than some of the brothels down here.  It even has a marble staircase and two parlors.”

He opened a door and I saw half-dressed women sitting in a parlor talking to men.  A pianist in the corner was playing ragtime music.

Jan led me up the marble staircase and we came to a room.  I didn’t know what surprises he had in store for me next.  It was all so thrilling!

We entered a very plush bedroom filled with antiques.  It had a large crystal chandelier in the middle of the ceiling.  At first, I didn’t notice her: I was too busy looking at Jan and the dazzling interior. Then, I saw her—a red-headed young woman sitting up in a four-poster bed.  She was wearing a dressing gown that barely covered her large breasts.  I looked at Jan with fire in my eyes and said, “What’s this all about?!  Why are we here?”

He told me, “I wanted you to meet Lily, my wife.”

“Your wife!” I shouted.  “You never told me you were married!”  I was about ready to murder him.

Defensively, he answered, “I do have a past, you know.  I’ve known Lily since I was a child.  We grew up together.”

“Is she a prostitute?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re never jealous about her having sex with other men?”

“It’s all we’ve ever known.  We have an understanding.”

With building anger, I shoved his chest and yelled, “I want to go home.  I don’t like you anymore.”

He gripped my hands, trying to get me to stay.  I was surprised when he said, “Don’t be jealous.  I’m not going to be having sex with her.”

I didn’t understand what he was talking about.

He said to Lily, “She feels funny about being in bed with you.  Come to her and help her feel more comfortable.”

###

Would you like to know what happens next?

Here's where you can buy "Storyville: An Time Travel Erotic Romance" for only 99 cents.

Amazon: http://amzn.to/2h44HHO

Apple: http://apple.co/2xKgz95

Barnes and Noble: http://bit.ly/2wGbGRL

Google Play: https://bit.ly/2cQy4wA

Smashwords: http://bit.ly/2cm81tf

Kobo: http://bit.ly/2wL5NTy

Sexy Mardi Gras

Happy Mardi Gras!

For Adults Only, here's a steamy excerpt from my erotic romance

Storyville: A Time Travel Erotic Romance

that takes place in New Orleans

A week passed, and I still hadn’t seen Jan Baptiste.  I was beginning to think I’d imagined him, due to all the moonlight-and-magnolias’ scenarios that had been clouding my mind. It didn’t make any sense.  What was he doing in the cemetery?  Was he a ghost?  How weird is that?!  On Saturday night, I heard ragtime music again.  I wasn’t sure if it was coming from the cemetery or not.  I put my robe on and ran across the street to look through the fence to see if Jan was there.  As I was looking, I felt a cold presence behind me.  I quickly turned around, and there was my Jan.  I threw my arms around his neck and showered him with kisses.

He pulled away and said, “Come with me.  I want to show you something.”  I followed him around the fence and we came to a place that was opened enough for both of us to get through.  “Are you frightened?” he asked.

“Not when I’m with you.”

He took my hand and led me to a burial vault.  He pointed to one of the names on the family plot.

I asked, “That’s you?!  So, you are a ghost?”

“I’m afraid so.”

I tried wrapping my mind around what he’d just said.  It was hard to believe.  I didn’t know if ghosts really existed.

He showed me some stairs leading down to the vault.  “Follow me.”

“Have I died, too?” I asked him.

“No.  You’re very much among the living.”  He pointed to a door.

“Where are we going?” I asked as he led me towards it. 

“We’re going to Storyville.  That’s where I live.”

“Storyville?  You mean the famous red-light district?”

“Yes.”

“I’ve read about it.  Storyville doesn’t exist anymore.  Are we going back in time?”

“Yes.  Back to 1899.”

Wow!  This is weird, but exciting, too.  I couldn’t believe it.  “Wow!” I said again.

“I hope you like it.”

“What do you do there in Storyville?”

“I play piano in some of the brothels.”

“Wow!  That’s where Louis Armstrong and Jelly Roll Morton got their start!”

“You know about them?”

“Yeah.  My grandfather likes jazz.”

“If you like jazz, you’ve come to the right place.”

I could hear music playing in the distance.  Before he opened the door, he said, “Are you ready to go back to 1899 with me?”

“Sure.  I’d follow you anywhere.”

He opened the door and I beheld a barely-recognizable Basin Street.  Back then, it had railroad tracks running down the middle of the street.  People were scurrying about wearing Victorian-era clothing.  There were two-storied stately mansions, some adorned with turrets and cupolas, lining the street.  Some of the houses had naked women hanging out of the upper floor windows trying to tempt the men on the street to come inside and join them.  There were saloons and gambling parlors.

He said, “We’re going to the Mahogany House.”

“Okay,” I answered, ready for anything.

“Have you ever heard of Lulu White?”

“No.  Who is she?”

“She runs this place,” he said as we walked up to the door of a large mansion.  “It’s a lot nicer than some of the brothels down here.  It even has a marble staircase and two parlors.”

He opened a door and I saw half-dressed women sitting in a parlor talking to men.  A pianist in the corner was playing ragtime music.

Jan led me up the marble staircase and we came to a room.  I didn’t know what surprises he had in store for me next.  It was all so thrilling!

We entered a very plush bedroom filled with antiques.  It had a large crystal chandelier in the middle of the ceiling.  At first, I didn’t notice her: I was too busy looking at Jan and the dazzling interior. Then, I saw her—a red-headed young woman sitting up in a four-poster bed.  She was wearing a dressing gown that barely covered her large breasts.  I looked at Jan with fire in my eyes and said, “What’s this all about?!  Why are we here?”

He told me, “I wanted you to meet Lily, my wife.”

“Your wife!” I shouted.  “You never told me you were married!”  I was about ready to murder him.

Defensively, he answered, “I do have a past, you know.  I’ve known Lily since I was a child.  We grew up together.”

“Is she a prostitute?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re never jealous about her having sex with other men?”

“It’s all we’ve ever known.  We have an understanding.”

With building anger, I shoved his chest and yelled, “I want to go home.  I don’t like you anymore.”

He gripped my hands, trying to get me to stay.  I was surprised when he said, “Don’t be jealous.  I’m not going to be having sex with her.”

I didn’t understand what he was talking about.

He said to Lily, “She feels funny about being in bed with you.  Come to her and help her feel more comfortable.”

Lily stood up and I saw that her dressing gown had come undone, and one of her very large tits was halfway out.  She did look good; I had to admit. She approached me and put her arms around my neck and then kissed me deeply.  Against my expectations, I liked the way she tasted: it was fresh and clean, like the cucumber-infused water served at my favorite spa.  She started unbuttoning my blouse.  I felt like backing away, but then I looked over at Jan sitting on a chair in the corner.  He winked at me.  I told myself, now I get it.  He wants to watch.  Well, I’ll put on quite a show, if that’s what he desires.  I opened Lily’s dressing gown, and caressed one of her luscious breasts, then buried my face between them.  I looked over at Jan and he was taking off his pants.

###

 Here's what readers are saying about 

Storyville: A Time Travel Erotic Romance:

Only 99 cents.

Buy Links:

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Do you like reading erotic time-travel stories?

If so, I hope you'll enjoy this excerpt from my erotic romance that takes place in the former red-light district in New Orleans called Storyville:

A week passed, and I still hadn’t seen Jan Baptiste.  I was beginning to think I’d imagined him, due to all the moonlight-and-magnolias’ scenarios that had been clouding my mind. It didn’t make any sense.  What was he doing in the cemetery?  Was he a ghost?  How weird is that?!  On Saturday night, I heard the ragtime music again.  I wasn’t sure if it was coming from the cemetery or not.  I put my robe on and ran across the street to look through the fence to see if Jan was there.  As I was looking, I felt a cold presence behind me.  I quickly turned around, and there was my Jan.  I threw my arms around his neck and showered him with kisses.

He pulled away and said, “Come with me.  I want to show you something.”  I followed him around the fence and we came to a place that was opened enough for both of us to get through.  “Are you frightened?” he asked.

“Not when I’m with you.”

He took my hand and led me to a burial vault.  He pointed to one of the names on the family plot.

I asked, “That’s you?!  So, you are a ghost?”

“I’m afraid so.”

I tried wrapping my mind around what he’d just said.  It was hard to believe.  I didn’t know if ghosts really existed.

He showed me some stairs leading down to the vault.  “Follow me.”

“Have I died, too?” I asked him.

“No.  You’re very much among the living.”  He pointed to a door.

“Where are we going?” I asked as he led me towards it.

“We’re going to Storyville.  That’s where I live.”

“Storyville?  You mean the famous red-light district?”

“Yes.”

“I’ve read about it.  Storyville doesn’t exist anymore.  Are we going back in time?”

“Yes.  Back to 1899.”

"Wow!"  This is weird, but exciting, too.  I couldn’t believe it.  “Wow!” I said again.

“I hope you like it.”

“What do you do there in Storyville?”

“I play piano in some of the brothels.”

“Really?  That’s where Louis Armstrong and Jelly Roll Morton got their start!”

“You know about them?”

“Yeah.  My grandfather likes jazz.”

“If you like jazz, you’ve come to the right place.”

I could hear music playing in the distance.  Before he opened the door, he said, “Are you ready to go back to 1899 with me?”

“Sure.  I’d follow you anywhere.”

He opened the door and I beheld a barely-recognizable Basin Street.  Back then, it had railroad tracks running down the middle of the street.  People were scurrying about wearing Victorian-era clothing.  There were two-storied stately mansions, some adorned with turrets and cupolas, lining the street.  Some of the houses had naked women hanging out of the upper floor windows trying to tempt the men on the street to come inside and join them.  There were saloons and gambling parlors.

He said, “We’re going to the Mahogany House.”

“Okay,” I answered, ready for anything.

“Have you ever heard of Lulu White?”

“No.  Who is she?”

“She runs this place,” he said as we walked up to the door of a large mansion.  “It’s a lot nicer than some of the brothels down here.  It even has a marble staircase and two parlors.”

He opened a door and I saw half-dressed women sitting in a parlor talking to men.  A pianist in the corner was playing ragtime music.

Jan led me up the marble staircase and we came to a room.  I didn’t know what surprises he had in store for me next.  It was all so thrilling!

We entered a very plush bedroom filled with antiques.  It had a large crystal chandelier in the middle of the ceiling.  At first, I didn’t notice her: I was too busy looking at Jan and the dazzling interior. Then, I saw her—a red-headed young woman sitting up in a four-poster bed.  She was wearing a dressing gown that barely covered her large breasts.  I looked at Jan with fire in my eyes and said, “What’s this all about?!  Why are we here?”

He told me, “I wanted you to meet Lily, my wife.”

“Your wife!” I shouted.  “You never told me you were married!”  I was about ready to murder him.

Defensively, he answered, “I do have a past, you know.  I’ve known Lily since I was a child.  We grew up together.”

“Is she a prostitute?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re never jealous about her having sex with other men?”

“It’s all we’ve ever known.  We have an understanding.”

With building anger, I shoved his chest and yelled, “I want to go home.  I don’t like you anymore.”

He gripped my hands, trying to get me to stay.  I was surprised when he said, “Don’t be jealous.  I’m not going to be having sex with her.”

I didn’t understand what he was talking about.

He said to Lily, “She feels funny about being in bed with you.  Come to her and help her feel more comfortable.”

Lily stood up and I saw that her dressing gown had come undone, and one of her very large breasts was halfway out.  She did look good; I had to admit. She approached me and put her arms around my neck and then kissed me deeply.  Against my expectations, I liked the way she tasted: it was fresh and clean, like the cucumber-infused water served at my favorite spa.  She started unbuttoning my blouse.  I felt like backing away, but then I looked over at Jan sitting on a chair in the corner.  He winked at me.  I told myself, now I get it.  He wants to watch.  Well, I’ll put on quite a show, if that’s what he desires.  I opened Lily’s dressing gown, and caressed one of her luscious breasts, then buried my face between them.  I looked over at Jan and he was taking off his pants.

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Sexy Show at Disneyland

I was about 11 years old when I fell in love with a show at Disneyland called “The Golden Horseshoe Revue.”  It took place in an old-fashioned Victoria-era opera house that consisted of two floors, with the second floor featuring elegant box seats.  I thought it was beautiful.  The revue featured saloon owner Slue Foot Sue and her dance hall girls. 

I was fascinated with the whole period and it’s not a surprise that I ended up writing a story that takes place in the late 1800s and features a jazz piano player and loose women. Here’s the erotic romance that I wrote.  It takes place in the former red-light district in New Orleans.

Storyville: A Time Travel Erotic Romance

Available for $1.99 at Amazon, iTunes, 

Barnes and Noble, Google Play, Kobo, and Smashwords 

A Sexy Ghost Story

Just in time for Halloween, here's an excerpt from my erotic romance about a modern-day California girl who moves to New Orleans and falls in love with a ghost who had once been a Creole musician who played in the brothels of Storyville at the end of the 1800s:

We kissed some more and he laid me down on the floor.  He knew how much I loved oral sex, so he went right to the business at hand.  I was almost on the cusp of an orgasm to begin with before he started licking my pussy.  By the time his tongue made a few rotations, I was a goner in about 5 seconds.  Way too fast, I know. But I didn’t care.  There will be others times together.  Won’t there?

He helped me off the floor and we sat on the sofa together.  “Jan,” I asked him, “remember when you said that someday you would play the piano for me?”

“Yes. Of course.”

“I have a piano,” I said, pointing across the room to it.

“Do you play?” he asked.

“A little.  Luckily, this apartment came completely furnished, including a piano.”

He walked over to it, sat on the bench, and told me, “I’ve written a song about you.”

“Really?  How wonderful!  What’s it called?”

“My Forever Love.”

“Oh, Jan.  How romantic.  Please play it for me.”

Before he started playing, I said, “Wait!  I want to record this so that I can savor it always.”  I propped my iPhone up with a book on my coffee table and hit “Record”.  Then, I looked intently at Jan sitting on the piano bench.  “Okay.  Play,” I directed him.

The notes he played were beautiful.  He was a wonderful musician and sounded a lot like Jelly Roll Morton. The song was slow, haunting, and sexy.  At first, I thought it was an instrumental, but half-way through, he added words.  His voice was low and sensuous and his words were heartbreaking: “She looked like something I wanted, but may be too fragile to touch.”

By the time it was over, tears were streaming down my cheeks.

He left the piano bench and came to me.  “Please don’t cry,” he told me and put his arm around me.

I nestled against him and said, “Please don’t go back to the cemetery tonight.  Don’t ever go back there again. Spend the night here.  I want to wake up in your arms.”

“I wish it was that simple.”

“But it is.  Just stay here.  We can live together like regular couples do.  We’ll cook breakfast, read the newspaper, walk in the park.  Doesn’t that sound lovely?”

“It really does, my love.  Who knows what will happen?  Maybe we’re shaking our fists at the gods right now.  You know, disrupting their plans for us.”

“Fuck them!” I boldly said.

He laughed and repeated what I said, “Yeah!  Fuck them!” 

“I almost expect to be struck down by a bolt of lightning right now,” I told him.

“I know,” he said and laughed.

I led him to my bedroom.  “Make yourself at home,” I told him as I went off to brush my teeth and take off my makeup. I was determined to live like regular couples do.  I put on my “Hello Kitty” nightgown and climbed into bed next to him.

“I love your nightie,” he said.  “Very sexy.”

“Are you making fun of me?” I asked.

“No.  Not at all.  I do love it.  I’m glad you feel cozy with me.  We’ll lie here like an old married couple, give each other a short peck on the cheek, settle in to a spoon position, and drift off to dreamland together. 

I snuggled up next to him and fell asleep instantly.

Would you like to read what happens next?

Storyville: A Time-Travel Erotic Romance 

by Maggie May

Available for $1.99 at the following online bookstores:

To purchase at Amazon

Purchase at iTunes

To purchase at Barnes and Noble

To purchase at Google Play Books

To purchase at Smashwords

To purchase at Kobo Books

New Orleans' Erotica

I started writing fiction when I was 16.  Here's what I looked like then:

  

At that age, my dream was to become either a can-can dancer at the Golden Horseshoe Review at Disneyland or be a dance-hall floozy on Gunsmoke.  High aspirations, indeed. When I was in my mid-twenties, I visited New Orleans for the first time and fell in love with the city.  I was fascinated by the history of Storyville, the famous red-light district at the turn of the 19^th century.  I loved the history of the jazz musicians who played at the brothels there.  My eBook “Storyville: A Time Travel Erotic Romance” is loosely based upon the life of one of my favorite New Orleans’ musicians Jelly Roll Morton, a Creole piano player who got his start playing in the bordellos of Storyville.  

Available for $1.99

at Amazon, iTunes, Barnes and Noble

Google Play, Smashwords and Kobo

New Orleans Time-Travel Erotic Romance

This time-travel erotic romance stars nineteen-year-old Roxie, a California girl who moves to New Orleans to start her life anew. Her apartment is on Basin Street, across from the famed St. Louis Cemetery, where one night she hears ragtime music emanating from inside. When she follows the music, she meets and falls madly in love with a sexy Creole man who transports her back to the days of Storyville, a red light district where he plays piano in brothels. He takes her to erotic worlds she never imagined, and suggests sexual experiences that test her. Will she go along with what he has to teach her? Will she overcome her jealousy and accept whatever he proposes? Because of its sexually explicit language, this book is for those 18 and older.

eBook available for $1.99 at
Amazon, iTunes, Barnes and Noble,
Google Play, Smashwords, and Kobo