the créme de la créme of arousing writing


a Taboo Romance Novelette Series

Book 2 of Fostered

Their natural affection—their very needs—draw them irrevocably closer, sealing their intimate bond for life... forbidden or not.

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Their natural affection—their very needs—draw them irrevocably closer, sealing their intimate bond for life... forbidden or not.

Daniel has known loss and sorrow all his life, leaving him with the faintest, hard-to-reach glimmer of hope in his young mind after spending his entire childhood in the foster care system. When he was left on the doorstep of the Andersons, his little life changed completely, unalterably. He met the warm, wide-open, mutually broken heart of the one and only Marie

Together, something very special, quite tender, and all together innocent was Fostered between them, something that only continues to be nurtured ever so naturally, delicately, and even without either's awareness. And all while the dark presence of Marie's husband Richard continues to loom over both of them. Richard sees what the two living under his roof cannot. 

What Daniel and Marie need most, only the other can give. Through Marie's strained and unfulfilling marriage and Daniel's angst of adolescence and fight to find his place in the world, the two are drawn all the closer together. 

It's instinctive. It's never spoken. But it's real. And every moment together, every individual and shared struggle, serves to seal their penetrating bond, a bond that will last their lifetimes. 

His Coming of Age and Angst-Ridden Entry into Adolescence ~ Her Steady Strength and Unending Capacity to Love ~ Their Unbreakable Bond Confirmed


There was new tension threatening to strangle the joyful air of the house after Christmas, and it had nothing to do with my own late night struggles and boyhood confusion.  My foster father wore an entirely new expression just for me.

Richard had fewer words for me, fewer criticisms or commands spoken out loud.  Yet, his judgment of me was in progress every second of every day.  A general look of disdain was all I would see on his face whenever he looked my way, a look of warning.

I felt his eyes on me, zeroing in on the back of my head and burning holes into my skull.  I felt his displeasure while he silently watched my every move—especially when Marie was also near.

But I was growing older, more secure.  With every new day that passed, I was more comfortable in my own skin, more certain that I was a good boy, a loved boy, that I had earned my place in Richard's home, even if against his own will.

Maybe it was my own confidence or the love and affection that my foster father witnessed his own wife held for me that made Richard's distrust of me build.  And then—when I was so young—it would've been impossible for me to realize what a grown man, so strong and cold like Richard, could possibly despise—even fear—in a small boy like me.  Maybe Richard had the power to foresee what neither Marie nor I possibly could.



Despite the weight of my foster father's condemning presence, I continued to count all the days that I was lucky enough to bask in the sunlight of Marie's smile.

It beamed from the broad front porch of the Anderson home—my home—every day when I walked home from school.  She waited there.  For me.  She was always there for me.

One afternoon, after I hungrily ate my way through a saucer topped with fresh-baked oatmeal raisin cookies, my foster mother first hinted at something special that just might occur on my upcoming birthday—that would occur, because she promised it to me.

"Your birthday's coming up," Marie mentioned casually, satisfied by the sight of me savoring every morsel of the after-school treat she'd baked just for me.

"Mmm, hmm," I mumbled around the big bite I'd just taken.

"Oh, dear," Marie giggled.  "You've got a raisin stuck to your teeth.  Right there in the middle of your smile."

I quickly dabbed at my teeth with a paper napkin.

"So..." she continued, still smiling at the embarrassing sight I'd unwittingly flashed her, "I wonder what a thirteen-year-old boy wants for his birthday."  Her beautiful, oval face rested in her hand, casually propped up by her arm resting on the dining table as she sat next to me, her gentle eyes offering a nearly transparent view into her very soul.

I finished the tasty morsel in my mouth, dabbed with my napkin again.  "I'm not thirteen yet."

"I know... but you will be.  And thirteen is a pretty big deal.  You'll be a teenager."  Her eyes took on a sudden sheen of thoughtfulness.  "You're growing up so fast."

My young mind detected that tone of sadness, but I didn't know how to respond.

"Whatever happened to my little Daniel?" she asked playfully.

"I'm right here!"  My words sounded much more childish than I intended.

"Oh, I know, but one day, you'll be gone, and—"

It must have been the look on my face that stopped her and made her feel the need to rush out with an apology.

"Oh, I didn't mean... Oh, Daniel!"

The hug was a surprise.  I had a third of another cookie in my mouth already.

Her body was warm and wonderful, all soft and sweetly scented, her hair silkier than ever.  Then, she pulled herself away again, and I was left wanting more.

"No, no... I hope you never go.  I mean, I know you have to grow up, and you'll be old enough to live your own life one day.  And I know you're only in our foster care, but..."  Her hand flew up to cover her mouth.  "Oh, no, I didn't mean that either!  Oh, gosh.  I should just be quiet."

I hated those words, that "foster" term.  I hated being reminded who I really was, what I really was in that family.  I wanted to pretend—forever and ever—that I was somebody else.  Someone luckier.

"Come here, Daniel."

I gulped down the cookie in my mouth and scooted my chair out from beneath the table.  I stood next to Marie.

Her arms wrapped around me, gently bent me to fit closely against her.  She snuggled her head against mine and whispered at my small hand she'd taken in hers.

"Remember what I promised to you?  Do you?  My promise is everything.  You never have to doubt that.  You'll stay here with us as long as you like, as long as... is right.  For you."  Marie let go of my hand and looked directly at me.  She gazed into my eyes as if watching something there only she could see.  "But you have to grow up, don't you?  Oh, and I'll miss you when you do." 

The subtle change in her voice proved that she meant it.

"I don't want to go," I said.  "I... don't want to grow up."

"Oh, yes!  Yes, you do, Daniel!  You have your whole life ahead of you.  Wonderful things that I want to hear all about!  You're such a bright boy, such a sweetheart, my Daniel.  You're my s—"

My foster mother stopped herself again.  I wished for the day that I was grown up enough—if that's what it took—to hear and know her complete thoughts, to be trusted.  ....

Average Rating: 5.0/5.0 from 4 reviews

Proving beyond a shadow of a doubt that the depth, seriousness, and quality of "Fostered" was no fluke, Tina Tirrell blows us away with the second volume in the series, "Bonded". For 45 minutes I was unable to do anything but move my eyeballs left to right and fingertap the edge of the screen on my Kindle for the next page. Absolutely gripping from start to finish.

Still working within the confines of fetish-erotica, Tirrell interweaves copious amounts of hard realities of foster-care life and dysfunctional family psychology into her tale. Right on page one, we hear of a cigarette burn on Daniel's hand given to him by a foster "brother" in a previous home. Our young hero may be a good-hearted young man, but he's damaged. And his suffering isn't over: he has to deal with the horrible, pathetic Richard, his current foster-father, who has set himself up in opposition to his foster-son. I say "pathetic" because, as in almost all cases along these lines, the tormentor is to blame for any unhappy home-life he thinks he has to put up with. Destruction ultimately leads to self-destruction. Just ask all those lonely old men in their shabby one-bedroom apartments, looking out their dirty windows, waiting for their once-a-year calls and emails -- maybe at Christmastime -- from distant family.

Well. Anyway. Daniel may be damaged goods and may be struggling against a mortal enemy, but Marie provides without surcease all the motherly and friendly affection he so desperately needs. However, Daniel gets a little frustrated with her weakness. Time and again, Marie forgives and therefore enables Richard's continuing bad behavior: in this regard, and without making a big FUSS over it with showy prose, Tina Tirrell demonstrates great psychological acuity. The details resonate: the father's "heavy presence" like smoke in a room; the son's immediate retreat to the bedroom whenever the approaching footfalls are heard outside the front door, and so on. To anyone who has ever grown up in an unhappy home, such details pierce with the sting of truth -- and the "sting of truth" is a fancy metaphor for Art.

Amidst this gripping turmoil, our hero's sexual awakening grows apace. We don't know how much of it is reciprocated yet -- we're not inside Marie's head -- but I could tell Daniel one thing, particularly about the final sexy sequence: women ALWAYS know what you're up to, guy. Especially at close range. :)

5 out of 5. One wonders about Part 3 of the series. Dear Author: hop to it! :)

I'm just in awe of Tina Tirrell's ability to take a taboo relationship, forbidden love, and make it so realistic, so genuine, so honorable.  It makes perfect sense and it's so pure and sweet.  I imagine there's a world of readers out there hanging on every moment in young Daniel's story and eager to personally experience every nuance and new event that unfolds.

This is the most heart-wrenching, heart-captivating romance series out there!  We've been dying for the second book in the series and the gradual build of tension and a lifelong relationship is just... so intense!

Totally addicted to Tina's writing style! The way she words is highly charged erotica.This is another amazing work that draws you in deeply and holds on. If your a fan of ageplay LOOK NO FURTHER. Tina is amazing!

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