as he readies himself to release his latest erotic work, MALE ESCORT--BOOK 1--"Innocence."
Kind, smart, witty, funny, and sexy, Zak Hardacre shows he's much more than an erotic romance writer. Behind those sculpted abs, is a man full of heart.
In his own words:
I’m Zak Hardacre. I live in the North East of England. I am a former member of the British Army, now turned IT, Slave. My father would often tell me stories when I was growing up, which captivated my imagination. In 2014, I embarked on writing a semi-autobiographical trilogy about the life of an ordinary British soldier. To this date, I have published two of those books under another name. The third is written and is currently being proofread. Whilst promoting myself and books on social media, I happened across a fellow Wicked Pen Writer, Dakota Storm. She persuaded me to collaborate on a piece of work titled “Explosive Chemistry”. I enjoyed the experience so much I decided to write one on my own. Well guys and girls, as they say, the rest is history. Although I am a new erotic writer, I learn quickly and take advice whenever I can. The stories I write are what could be classed as Erotic Romance, at least for the moment anyway. Up to this point, they are based on experiences I have had during my life, with a little artistic license thrown in.
click here to go to Zak's website: zakhardacre.wixsite.com/author
Zak's BRAND NEW HOT RELEASE
The first in a trilogy of books.
Cillian, is a young rugged virile man from Cork in Ireland.
After an altercation with a gypsy at a wedding venue where he is a bouncer, he needs to flee Ireland to live in England.
A sleepy Wiltshire town, and a chance meeting with Bianca a recently bereaved widow.
Over a period of 48 hours, he experiences things that he never dreamt possible.
A secret room, but what is its purpose?
The books follow him from innocence, through a journey of discovery, until he finally works professionally as a male escort.
What is your idea of earthly happiness?
If you mean by the question what are my thoughts on my material existence as opposed to my spiritual or heavenly one? I would say this:
To be surrounded by people who love and encourage me and to feel as if I am accomplishing my goals. To love and be loved. to learn and to grow. To accept me with all of my quirks and idiosyncrasies.
Embracing new experiences, keeping meaningful relationships with people who are important to me, and helping people. To be in the companionship of family and friends with good food and drink, books to read, stories to hear, and intellectual stimulation.
What sound or noise do you love? Hate?
I love the sound of rain on a tent flap or window pain. The sound of rain is one of the most relaxing sounds in existence. I have spent many years in the outdoors and it is a sound that I long for at times. The only thing that beats it is lying next to someone you love to experience it with.
I don't like the term "hate" but I dislike the following:
The sound nails make when they a drawn down a blackboard. The sound of a child screaming. Most of all the heavy sound of bass coming from a car with the sound system cranked at full volume.
(Yes. I let him keep his spelling on this.)
Favourite word (s)
Cum bucket (a female lady part) and oh yes my particular favourite Cockwomble (a description of an unsavoury character). Oh okay, I will be serious for the purpose of the interview. I do like the word "salacious" as I do often have undue or indecent interest in sexual matters. It rolls off the tongue so easily and elegantly. I just said it out loud and I felt a twitch in my nether regions.
"Awesome". I find its general use to describe everyday events unimaginative and irksome. There are a plethora of words in the English language that someone could use to illustrate a feeling or emotion. I put it down to bad drills, and people should tighten up their weapon, I mean language skills.
Who is your favourite artist (writer, painter, musician, poet, etc.)?
Writer – William Shakespeare and that is not to blow smoke up your arse by the way. Shakespeare grabbed my attention from an early age, being British I was brought up on his works. I have read him many times over and still continue to do so. His works were not just relevant in his time but are still so today. He was a genius and literary visionary. I also like Charles Dickens portrayal of Dickensian England, a social history of my British heritage.
I also like non British authors Stephen King was a particular favourite of mine when I was young. Horror was another genre along with history that caught my attention whilst growing up. That is if growing up is the right phrase in my case.
How would you like to die?
I would like to die having created something on this earth that would leave a mark of my passing. This could be anything from a piece of work written, a painting, or a kind act to another human being.
What is your present state of mind?
Calm as a Hindu cow.
What is your motto or favourite quote?
I have a couple of favourite quotes, however coming from a military background one that always stuck with me was this one by G.K Chesterton:
“The true soldier fights not because he hates what is in front of him, but because he loves what is behind him.”
I have also lived my life by a certain creed and hope that I will continue to do so. Although the following is not a quote I think that it is worthy of remembering from time to time.
Trouble no one about their religion; respect others in their view, and
Demand that they respect yours. Love your life, perfect your life,
Beautify all things in your life. Seek to make your life long and
Its purpose in the service of your people.
Prepare a noble death song for the day when you go over the great divide.
Always give a word or a sign of salute when meeting or passing a friend,
Even a stranger, when in a lonely place. Show respect to all people and
Bow to none. When you arise in the morning, give thanks for the food and
For the joy of living. If you see no reason for giving thanks,
The fault lies only in yourself. Abuse no one and nothing,
For abuse turns the wise ones to fools and robs the spirit of its vision.
When it comes your time to die, be not like those whose hearts
Are filled with fear of death, so that when their time comes
They weep and pray for a little more time to live their lives over again
In a different way. Sing your death song and die like a hero going home."
– Chief Tecumseh, Shawnee Nation
"I want to taste your come," she pleads.
Grabbing her by the hands, I forcefully pull her up. Her hands reach out for my cock, but I cast them aside, pushing her back against the rear wall of the cleaning cupboard. I have never dominated a woman like this, and the thrill of it makes my dick throb. I begin to tear off her t-shirt. It snags, so she takes over, removing it and casting it aside. Her white lace bra glows in the fluorescent lights. I bury my head in the centre of her cleavage, and my lips begin to plant rough kisses on each of her breasts.
Arms behind her back, she unclasps her bra and her tits swing free. I place my hand under the left one. Lifting it to my face, I suck and tease the nipple with my teeth. My breath scorches her skin, and she emits a groan of satisfaction.
Delving into her pants, my fingers probe her already soaked pussy. Crooking my finger, I insert it, forcing it to the back of her opening. I hit her sweet spot as my thumb rubs her clit. Another murmur escapes her lips as a second finger prises open her delicate folds. I crudely drive my fingers in and out of her, almost lifting her off the ground.
"Oh my God, I want you so bad," she screams in my ear, all thoughts of being discovered now abandoned.
On hearing this, pure unbridled passion consumes me. Pulling down her jeans, she kicks them to one side. Grasping hold of the inside of her white panties, I rip them to the right and they come away in my hands. Her eyes are wide, imploring, wanting. I grip her ass cheeks hard and without finesse, stooping slightly, lifting her. Instinctively, her legs wrap around my back. My tool quivers below her opening.
Gripping under her thighs, I suspend her above the tip of my cock, slowly but gently lowering her down. The head of my shaft makes contact with her labia and her lips part, allowing it to enter. The muscles of her pussy tighten as I force my way further inside. A gasp of warm air ripples over my shoulder as she wriggles with delight. I look into her eyes but they are tightly shut and her teeth are clamping down on her bottom lip.
"Mmmm, that feels so good," she murmurs, her eyes flickering.
Using my weight, I force her even harder against the wall. With the use of my abdominal muscles, I pound in and out of her. I can feel her juices flowing down my balls as I thrust in and out.
"Fucking yes, pound my pussy, you bastard!" she screams out, delirious, her nails digging into my shoulders.
I peer down and watch as my thick, swollen shaft, glistening with her sweet nectar, plunges in and out. The sensation of her muscles squeezing me with every movement is intense. She has become a piece of meat in my hands. The force of my thrusts throws her back against the wall. With no thought for the pain it may be causing, I continue to drive into her with even more force. I am now in the depths of intense passion. The pain from her fingernails piercing my skin only heightens the pleasure. She bucks against me, forcing her pubic mound against mine, panting in my ear.
"Oh God, I'm coming. Don't stop!" she wails.
The sudden surge of milky fluid travelling from my balls, up through my erection, makes me pump even faster. My butt cheeks flex and relax rapidly. My seed empties into her as her own squirts, soaking me in its delicious stickiness. I bite into her shoulder as she throws her head back to give me better purchase. Her body goes into spasm as an orgasm undulates through her pussy.
I rest my head on her shoulder, glimmering from the moisture produced by our exertions. She takes my face in both hands, her fingers on each side of my jawline. Leaning forward, she delicately kisses me, nibbling softly on my bottom lip.
"Thank you so much," she whispers softly and breathlessly in my ear.
I pull my head back to observe her. The contentment written all over her face is testimony to my performance. I have never been as aggressive and dominant with a woman. It’s new and exciting. Maybe this is something I could get a taste for.