JANJAN UNTAMED, Wordsmith
“I have something for everyone whose mind is wide open."
~ JANJAN UNTAMED ~
Welcome to the world of
JANJAN UNTAMED
This is my official website. Thank you so much for stopping by. Sit back, relax, and stay a while.
“I leave a piece of my heart on every page."
~ JANJAN UNTAMED ~
JANJAN UNTAMED
I grew up in a small city on the banks of the Mississippi River. I loved fishing and hunting with my dad. I started writing in the third grade. As a child, I wrote as much as I read. However, I never shared my writing until I was an adult. The world can thank my ten followers for pushing me to finally publish something. What took me so long to share it? I write dark shit and I mostly wrote it for myself. I have a bad habit of writing what I like to read. As it turns out, some of you like reading it too. Thank you for your support.
"Yeah, I'm kinda weird. Most interesting people are."
~ JANJAN UNTAMED ~
This is a safe place for those who enjoy darker themes. You must be 18+ to ride this ride.
"My novels are for deep thinkers and perverts."
~JANJAN UNTAMED~
"I would rather run free with the wolves
than crowd in with the sheep."
~JANJAN UNTAMED~
"My favorite genre to write is historical."
~ JANJAN UNTAMED ~
Which JANJAN novel held you captive the longest?
"My stories are different.
I like that."
~ JANJAN UNTAMED ~
One day, I will understand why people read trigger warnings, get triggered and trash the book. The warning was for you, lil bish.
It's the walk for me.
The wolf will eat you better.
“Some heroines fall for the guy that readers hate. The heart wants what the heart wants."
~ JANJANUNTAMED ~
My novels are love letters to the emotionally insane.
“Meet me in New Orleans."
~ JANJAN UNTAMED ~
I met some new friends during my night out and they came to my book signing the next day!
My first burlesque show. Watch at your own risk. She gets naked af.
"Are you a virgin anywhere, Minette?"
"No, Master. Not unless you count my heart.",
~Seville St. John and his Minette~
“You feel like a virgin in every way." Master speaks with my blood dripping from his perfect lips. "I love the way your cunt feels inside, Minette. You are so warm and wet..."
Seville St. John
From the novel The Reimagining of a Blood Slave
"The story deals with an ancient vampire and the submissive who serves him. The concept of total submission triggers some women. They use words like weak and doormat when I say vulnerable and in love."
~JANJAN UNTAMED~
'Yeah, I wrote a story about a heroine addict who fell in love with a sex addict. Their story begins at a meeting. I loved writing this Novel."
~JANJAN UNTAMED~
FIXX
"The woman looks like she has been to hell, fucked the devil,
and made it back to tell us her story."
Dorien Prince
From the novel Fixx
“Are you always like this?” The junkie asks curiously, setting down her fork again.
“How do you mean?” I am curious.
Her brown eyes are like warm syrup, and soft with emotion as she watches me. The dumb junkie puts her heart out there for anyone to come along to break. I spear a piece of chicken with my fork and hold it to her strange, hundred-dollar lips. She takes it and chews.
“I don’t know…” She begins. The poor, church mouse is about to say something offensive again. “Like this.”
Her hands extend toward me as she speaks with food in her mouth. Low class.
“The way you walk, the way you talk, the way you dress. You’re so formal and stuffy. You talk like a vampire. It’s sexy, but you aren’t a nice person, Dorien.”
That puts a smile on my lips. It is one of the kinder ways that someone has described me.
“You are in my house, eating my food. I am nice enough.”
"Some will hate your work and others will love it. You can't please everyone. Don't even try."
~JANJAN UNTAMED~
“My sweet virgin.” We are face-to-face again. I smell myself on him. It makes me hold him tighter. “My Maeve.”
His lips come down on mine as he fills me with his cock. I scream into his mouth. The Beaumont Prince rides me hard and deep until I stretch to accommodate his size. It begins to hurt less with every stroke. I am being fucked by a Beaumont Prince. I wrap my arms and legs around him. I hold on to him while I can.
The pain fades into something dark and delicious. His love making is comforting like warm chocolate and swallows me like a moonless night. I hold onto his hair and look into his eyes as he finds his pleasure deep inside my body.
“Christian.”
A tear rolls down my face. The Beaumont has probably seen this happen a hundred times before. Some unsuspecting woman probably falls in love underneath him every day. He does not speak. I need not hear him speak any words. I see them in his eyes. I feel them in the way he is making love to me. He wants me the same way. The prince reaches down between us to touch the sensitive bud where we are joined. My body begins to tremble and shake on its on as I am overcome with a pleasure like no other. Not even his mouth feels this good. I move my hips with him. I take it all.
“I will give you the child that you want so badly, Maeve. I will give you as many as you want, witch; if it means I get to keep fucking you.”
“Yes.” I cry to out when my cunt explodes inside. “Yes.”
"Have you read The View From The Bottom? It was a journey."
~Truly Fontaine~
What are you doing Truly? I ask myself again as I try to figure out the fancy shower. You are getting this money. Then, why are you hiding in the bathroom? I'm hiding from him. The blonde. I'm not sure if I want him to watch me fuck his friend. I'm not sure if I want him to see me like this. Shake it off bitch. This is no time to catch a conscience. This is no time to catch a case of the shame. Don't be stupid, he met you like this. If you weren't like this, you wouldn't be here right now. You are the entertainment. These are business hours and you are good at your job. So shake it the fuck off. Why didn't I just get on the train and go home? I have ten thousand reasons in my bag. A deal is a deal and it's not like I haven't been here a hundred times before. Do it, don't do it, do it, don't do it, and I end up doing it anyway.I pat my face dry with a towel that is softer than my bed at home. I stand in the mirror and stare at myself. I take in my drunk looking red eyes, my wild afro, and the slutty red lipstick. You are a fucking loser. But you're winning tonight baby.
"Shout out to my twelve followers on Wattpad who encouraged me to publish this book."
Section Title.
"Writing fantasy frees me from the bondages of reality."
~ JANJANUNTAMED ~
His groan is a warning before he buries himself inside me. My eyes fly open, and my mouth opens to scream. Kai lets me scream. And when the burning begins to fade into a soft throbbing, his lips find mine. And he makes love to me. Gently. Considerately. With soft words and a softer touch. He is awfully skilled at this for a primitive man. How do I know how primitive he is? What do I know at all? I know that he doesn’t want to hurt me, but he can’t stop. His hips are moving slowly, but he can’t stop fucking me. When I look up at the strange native who calls himself Kai, my heart beats off-key and my body is flooded with warmth.
Doctor Evee Ward
From the novel Day One
"When I was writing Day One, I thought to myself, this is the one. This one is going to show the world that you aren't fucking around. It is going to put you on the map."
~JANJAN UNTAMED~
"I got a lot of heat for The Magnificent Miss Broadway. It is a story about falling in love with a heartbreaker. There are some who were angry, and some who could relate because they had a heartbreaker of their own.
~JANJAN UNTAMED~
Bijou Broadway
“Howdy, Sheriff. Deputies...”
“Well, I'll be. Bijou Broadway? Is that you gal?”
“Yessuh, Sheriff. Been out here a while now huntin’ snappers.”
“Alone by yerself again? Where's yer Pa?”
“He’s minin’ coal up north.”
“It ain't safe out here for a gal at night. Too many thieving niggers and nigger lovers creeping away from black Nuke’s in these woods. We looking for a man what got caught stealing from the Stumphy place. They ain't get a look at his face, say it looked like a nigger. Had to be a nigger to get away unseen like that.”
“I seen a man.” I speak up.
“Yah did? Where? When? Was it a nigger?”
“Nah, Suh. Was a white man. White as a ghost.”
“She’s lyin! Weren't no white man! Maybe she was in on it...”
“Shut your goddamn mouth, Jimmy. Hannibal Broadway ain't never stole nothing or broke the law and his gal ain't neither. No sense in making trouble with him. Hannibal hates niggers worse than anybody, he ain't gonna help no thief!”
“Now tell me what you saw, Bijou.” The Sheriff says like he's speaking to a small child. I get top honors, but because I walk with a cane, most white people treat me like I’m slow.
“I seen a white fella, Sheriff. With light hair and running with two turkeys down yonder way into the deep. Down toward that bog with the quicksand.”
“Goddamn it! The son of a bitch got away. We ain't riskin’ our necks over a few turkeys.”
“Them was prized turkeys, Sheriff.” One of the deputies reminds him.
“Bullshit. What the hell is a prize turkey anyway? Does it cook itself? They ain’t prize turkeys no more. Now, they’re some poor kid’s supper. Turn us around, this is as far as we go.”
“Sheriff!” I call.
“Why yes, Bijou?”
“You fellas are trespassing.” I warn them. “That's a shooting offense.”
They laugh because they think I’m slow. I laugh because they’re a bunch of idiots. When I’m sure they’re gone, I turn to kick George Kelly off my land. He’s standing so close that I bump into him. He reaches out his hands and grabs me when I threaten to fall. I fall against his hard chest instead.
I’ve never been this close to a boy before. My titties are smashed against him and my pussy is pressed against the bulge in his tattered britches. My heart beats faster and I can’t move like a statue. My first touch from a man and it's Gorgeous George. The ugliest of the Kelly’s. He is so tall and well-formed that I’m curious. I don't kick him off right away. He senses my curiosity and gives into some of his own. He grabs me up roughly, squeezes my ass and kisses me hard on the lips. Holy shit does he kiss me. Not the sweet peck that I expect from my Seth. The Kelly is a few years older than me. He’s done this before.
I lose my mind and kiss him back. We forget ourselves in the hot night. Strange things happen in the swamp at night.Suddenly, he throws me away from him. He looks half-disgusted and half in love. I turn and vomit into the bushes. Oh God I kissed George Kelly! He picks up his prize turkeys, gives me one last hateful look, and we run our separate ways.
Bijou Broadway
From the novel The Magnificent Miss Broadway
Young Bijou
Note to self: Don't let naysayers steal your love for writing. Fools throw rocks at things that shine.
"Could you date a porn star?"
The Beast
I walk outside into the warm, summer night checking out the nearly-empty parkin lot. Billy’s overrated little sports car is parked under a street light. So is mine. I park it here for the same reason he does. Because it deserves a fuckin spotlight. Billy’s shit looks like a fuckin Hot Wheel toy beside The Beast. I adjust my dick and cross the lot to my black-on-black 1965 Lincoln Continental. Look at them wheels, baby. Now this is a fuckin car. I need a car big enough to fit my ego. And my dick.
Darby Goodnight
From the novel The Bastard & The Bird
Darby Goodnight
From the novel The Bastard & The Bird
My tongue slides between her pussy lips. She likes that. So, I lick it some more. I show her how good she’ll get her pussy ate if she sticks with me. I eat her pussy like I’m in the fuckin pussy-eatin Olympics, and I’m goin for fuckin gold. I lick her and suck her til she cums in my mouth and I keep on suckin her.
She begs me to stop. That’s when I finally stop and climb between her brown legs. I kiss the inside of her thigh in thanks for the gift I’m about to receive. The gift of her whole fuckin life. My lips cover hers and she reaches down to put it in herself. I wonder why she didn’t ask me for a rubber? I keep some, but I don’t bother since I can’t get sick. She’s probably on birth control. I doubt if she’s the kinda reckless bitch that gets knocked up by a strange man. Oh, fuck. My dick’s in her pussy. I wasn’t expectin her to be this fuckin tight.
“Wait.” She gasps.
Little Birdie wasn’t expectin this much dick. I don’t wanna hurt her. I usually don’t care about shit like that, but I can’t hurt her. I need her to need me, and hurtin her ain’t gonna help.
“We can go as slow as you wanna, baby.”
"Ain't no way you gonna stop my flow."
~DMX~
Love me when the sun is shining. Love me when it is cold and dark. Love me when I am difficult to love. Love me when I push you away. Love me when I beg you to stay. Love me when I say that I don't love you anymore. Love me when I don't love myself. Love me when my words are untrue. Love me because my heart will always belong to you. ~JANJAN UNTAMED~
Devil's Darling
Chapter One
My day began as a nightmare. The devils raped me all night long. The devils were still raping me an hour ago. They showed me no mercy. For devils are born without mercy. They are born without righteousness. They are born without care. Devils are born with black hearts, white skin, and an evil inside them that never rests. There is no rest for the wicked on the Sinclair plantation. There is no rest for the weary. No amount of sleep can take away a lifetime of exhaustion. I always feel older than my eighteen years.
I yawn tiredly. My jaws crack and click from sucking so many faceless, small, pink cocks. There is hardly any strength left in my sore muscles from working all day and being used all night. I have the knees and back of an old woman and the spirit of someone who is tired of living. No amount of sleep can take away a lifetime of exhaustion. Slavery is a prison with gates that never open. It is ailment and the only cure for it is death.
The devils never offered me a drop of water to quench my thirst or a cloth to wipe away the seed between men. It pleases them to see me in such a state. Devils are vicious creatures. This is the second day that I have not seen my pallet and it is morning again. The old cock slumbering in the yard has yet to crow. The sun has yet to rise. And for some Godforsaken reason, Old Phil has summonsed me again. Whatever he wants will hurt. Hopefully, it won’t last long.
Why does it have to be me? God is frowning down on me for wishing the devil had summonsed another, but I am tired. I am so tired that I think it would be heavenly if I go to sleep and never wake up again. This is no life. This is hell. My satin slippers are silent on the shiny floors as I hurry through the quiet house at this ungodly hour. The softness in my steps comes from years of practice. There is nothing quieter than me. Not still water. Not still air. Not even death. Nothing is as soundless as I am. My silence helps me to be invisible.
My hell smells of fresh flowers in porcelain vases and beeswax from a recent wood polishing. A polishing that I, myself, oversaw to be certain the task was performed properly. Everything must be perfect no matter the day or hour. This mansion is famous for its perfect southern charm, and broken, obedient slaves.
I walk past generations of old furniture and masterpieces from Italy and France. Old Phil’s grandparents purchased the art on their tour abroad. They came back and died from Tuberculosis. If the stories I hear are true, it couldn’t have happened to a more deserving couple. The dead grandparents were before my time, but their devil spawn is doing them proud.
The evil blue eyes of their ugly, wrinkled, red-faced ancestor’s watch me with contempt from their portraits on the white walls. All were devils who did the devil’s work in this house before the family currently in residence. Their ancestors did the world a great service by dying. I hope they are resting in eternal hell with their maker.
A glance at the German clock on the heavy mantle tells me that it is four a.m. I keep what are called slave hours. That means I am always on my feet. I sleep when they tell me to. I eat when they tell me to. I fuck when they tell me to. I am breathing because they say I can breathe. I know this house better than anyone else. I see all. I hear all. I know all. Nothing gets past me.
Fallon loves that clock more than she loves her own children. I am the only one allowed to touch it because they trust me. She has good taste in everything, right down to the green dress that I am wearing. I am her favorite pet. She enjoys showing me and her clock to her devil friends. I hate her more than anyone else will ever hate her.
Heaven forbid I wake a devil woman while walking past their door. I will end up helping her wash, or dress, or something else unpleasant that I do not want to do. Devils are a lazy sort. They cannot feed themselves. They cannot wash themselves. They are like helpless, pink babies until it is time to weld a whip or drop their pants. They are strongest when exercising their cruelty.
However, as dirty as the chore is, I would rather wash a stinking devil woman than do whatever the old man has called upon me to do. If I stop to help someone else, and do not make it to him, old Phil will make me pay later. It is best to get it over with and heal all at once.
The banister is cool and smooth underneath my hand as I make my way up the curved staircase to the second floor. My fingers slide easily over the wood the way our bottoms did when we were screaming children sliding down it for fun. That was when my laughter echoed through the house. I was still a child back then. It seems like so long ago.
Those innocent years as a small girl were deceiving. I was not a child or innocent for long.
“Look at you all dressed up pretty foah me.” Elliot's slow drawl, and handsome looks make me smile. “Good mornin’, my sweet Darlin’.”
