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Excerpt: Bad JuJu by Dina Rae

Dina Rae, ebook, gothic/horror, Host: GFP Book Tour, magic/witch, paranormal, print, Publisher: self publish 7 Comments

Bad JuJu by Dina Rae

Bad JuJu

by Dina Rae

eBook ASIN: B0097L9FHW
Print ISBN: 978-1480067707

A Haitian bokor mentors two teens in the dark arts. Their spells backfire.

Lucien Nazaire flees his Haitian homeland and meanders around the United States for decades. He settles in a Wisconsin trailer park filled with elderly tenants. He meets Jake and hires him for odd household jobs. As their relationship progresses, Lucien invites the boy into the world of Voodoo.

Jake LaRue lives in foster care with his abusive uncle. The Voodoo lessons give him a sense of power within an otherwise helpless situation. Despite his loner status, he instantly connects with Henry, his only friend in high school.

Henry Novak has Asperger’s Syndrome. He fixates on historical events, most recently the 2010 Haitian earthquake. Like Jake, he becomes passionate about the dark side of Voodoo. They learn how to cast spells on those they hate and lust, leading up to dire consequences.
Months after the Haitian earthquake, Henry convinces his family to volunteer for the island’s reconstruction. Their mission turns into a nightmare when he mysteriously walks off of the campsite.

Bad Juju is a balance of horror, romance, and literary fiction intended for adults and mature teens. The plot uses research involving the Voodoo religion.

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Excerpt

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The Chalet by Tara Fox Hall

ebook, erotic, gothic/horror, m/f, paranormal, Publisher: Beau to Beau Books, Tara Fox Hall 1 Comment
The Chalet by Tara Fox Hall

The Chalet
by Tara Fox Hall

Beau to Beau Books

eBook ISBN: 9781618451248

When Madeline honors her mother’s dying wish and returns to The Chalet, she discovers the true secret of the old mansion; a seductive spirit whose undying love has waited decades to claim her for its own.

Note: This title has no chapter breaks. Please enjoy the first scene.

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Scene One

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Sanguine Kiss by Alexandra Christian

Alexandra Christian, erotic, gothic/horror, m/f, paranormal, Publisher: Purple Sword Publications, vampire Add Comment
Sanguine Kiss by Alexandra Christian

Sanguine Kiss
by Alexandra Christian

Purple Sword Publications

eBook ISBN: 978-1-61292-051-1

Gillian Thompson wants to end her life. Deserted by her lover, she thinks that death is the only answer. On a fateful night, the one that should be her last, she meets the mysterious Seth, who understands the depth of her pain. He offers Gillian a new life beyond pain and regret. A life bathed in bloody kisses and bittersweet vengeance.

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Prologue

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Smoldering Nights by Lisa Carlisle

ebook, erotic, gothic/horror, Lisa Carlisle, m/f, paranormal, Publisher: Ellora's Cave, vampire 1 Comment

Smoldering Nights
by Lisa Carlisle

Ellora’s Cave

eBook ISBN: 9781419940170

When Nike encounters Michel at Vamps, an underground club, the night surpasses her fantasies. Only Michel isn’t mortal and someone is hunting him down for vengeance.

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Chapter One

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Amy Obeys by Christian Jensen

BDSM, Christian Jensen, ebook, erotic, gothic/horror, m/f, paranormal, Publisher: Rebel Ink Press Add Comment

Amy Obeys
by Christian Jensen

Rebel Ink Press

eBook ISBN: RIP0004106

Amy is haunted by the memory of the Master, a man who molded Amy into something she didn’t recognize, a man who keeps her running while she searches for the one thing her new love offers. Will Amy finally be free, or will the secrets she carries tear her apart?

Prologue

Amy was trapped, tied to a bed with a blindfold over her eyes. She gasped in the darkness as the rope bit into her wrists, burning her delicate flesh. She sucked in a breath and savored the pain, the tingling sensation hurting her hands as the blood swelled them. Her shoulders hurt a little, but it was nothing compared to the strain on the tendons of her inner thighs. Amy’s legs were spread wide, the ropes pulled taut and digging deeper into her with every movement.
The room was hot; sticky and humid despite the delicate whir of the ceiling fan which only served to stir the muggy air around her naked body. There was a faint, musty odor in the room, something unpleasant she couldn’t quite place. Then something stirred in the corner. She could hear someone on the carpet, walking closer. She felt him standing over her, looking down at her naked body as she struggled against the ropes. Amy tilted her head back and to the side, testing the limits of the blindfold.
Nothing.
She sat up a little, her neck craning as the tendons stood out like wires under her skin. Her breasts jiggled; sweat dripping down the valley between them zigzagging until it finally pooled in the hollow of her navel. The shadow of muscles stood out on her belly and her arms and shoulders shook with the effort it took to keep her head aloft. She finally gave in and sank to the bed.
He touched her. Amy jumped a little, but his hand was hot and strong and felt good. It slid over her slick skin and left coolness in its wake that felt heavenly. The mattress shifted under his weight and he was directly above her. His breath came hot on her neck, smelling of alcohol and sin. He sniffed the hollow of her neck, slow and deliberate, and she could feel his lips flutter over her jaw, the sensation that of a butterfly flapping against her skin, something so delicate it threatened to burn her.
His lips moved down Amy’s Jaw line and over her throat. They parted and the hot breath was back, followed by the pressure of broad teeth on the delicate flesh. Amy sucked in a breath as the pressure increased.
His tongue slid over her sweat and the teeth were gone. He slithered down her throat and between her breasts, one large hand covering the tight mound and squeezing before his fingers found her nipple and twisted just enough to send an electric jolt of pain through her body.
Amy moaned and arched her back.
He continued to lick, his tongue flicking over her smooth skin, lingering in the shallow recess between each rib before outlining the pear shape of her navel. His hand cupped the hairless space between her legs, the heat driving her insane as he brought his mouth up to her breast and sucked a nipple into his mouth. He bit down around the areola and Amy moaned, struggling with the ropes. And again she got nowhere.
He straddled her left leg, the loose feel of his scrotum resting hot and heavy on her thigh as he kissed up her neck and over her jaw, threatening to drive Amy insane. She turned her head towards him and snapped her teeth. He was too quick to be caught, but brought his mouth down over hers and soon their tongues danced as he ground the hardness of his erection against her thigh. Clearly he wanted her to know how turned on he was.
Amy struggled against her ropes as his weight left the bed. Her nipples strained atop her quivering breasts as she sucked in shallow breaths, her disappointment palpable.
There was a delicate snap from across the room. A light switch.
She could feel his presence over her again. His hand moved through her hair then the blindfold was gone. Amy blinked her eyes and struggled to see something, anything, but the room was too dark. His figure moved across the bed, nothing but a shadow. He knelt between her legs, his hands massaging her thighs. His thumbs slid over her swollen lips then over her stomach. As he leaned forward she could feel the stiffness of his cock, but he wouldn’t let it get close to the wet opening that ached for him.
His hands slid down her sides, the strong fingers bouncing over her ribs, sinking into the softness underneath. They moved under her ass and he grabbed her cheeks, squeezing and spreading them as he lifted her off the mattress. He arched his hips and she could feel his swollen head tickling her labia, threatening to enter her. He moved himself around until the position was perfect then he bounced her slightly, his engorged head slipping just into her wetness but going no further.
Amy’s body was electric; the pain in her wrists and ankles making the pressure of his cock feel ten times better. The rough texture of his hands was so tight on her ass the strain on her shoulders and hips exploded like fireworks inside her head. She moaned out loud, her mouth struggling to form real words. She wanted him all the way inside her, but the torture was exquisite.
He moved and dropped her back to the bed and she could feel him lean as his shadow reached to the floor. There was a sudden burst of light, a star coming to life in the blackness of the room. Her eyes shut against the glow until it faded just enough and when she opened them again, the sulfur smell was receding, replaced by something familiar. Candlelight waltzed to the gentle breeze created by the ceiling fan, the light reflecting in his dark eyes and dancing there, moving like a promise.
Amy stared at the flame, transfixed and fearful. He stretched out his arm and held the red candle away from him. The smell much stronger now, she placed the scent. Cinnamon. She watched the flame while it bounced and ducked. Then he rolled his hand and tipped the candle and hot wax poured onto her breast, covering a nipple. Amy gasped and gritted her teeth.
The pain was magnificent. She struggled against the ropes again, relishing the pain even as the wax dried and crusted on her skin. The sharp sting came again a few seconds later as wax covered her other nipple.
He placed the candle on her stomach. She had to struggle to keep it aloft, balancing it with her movements and controlling her breathing so as not to tilt it. She struggled to keep her head up to keep an eye on the glowing flame while he slid down the bed and brought his mouth over her wetness.
The heat of his breath didn’t match the heat of her need as come dripped between her legs and down the valley of her ass. His tongue worked slowly over her lips, touching the space between them for only a second before he worked back out towards the hollow between her shaking thighs. He brought a thick finger over her clit and down between her aching labia, twisting around the tight opening of her ass then settling with intense pressure right between her twin holes. He rubbed the spot with the index finger of his left hand while the thumb of his right ground a harsh circle over her clit. He licked her with long, slow swipes, covering the space between his fingers and alternately pushing his tongue inside her.
Amy struggled against the need to move her hips and the fear of letting the candle fall. Her breath came in ragged gasps, her lungs burning and straining for more oxygen, black dots dancing in the periphery of her vision as unconsciousness threatened to claim her. There was an icy flower blooming inside her stomach, opening up and spreading like wildfire through her insides. Amy’s stomach fluttered against his touch, against the fear of the fire, against the threat of losing consciousness, but mostly around knowing she was going to come. As soon as she let go, there was no way she could keep still enough to balance the candle.
The pressure and speed of his fingers increased, as did the intensity of his tongue. He slid his thumb down off her clit and into her wetness, his mouth taking its place and sucking the delicate nub as his tongue swirled and circled it. Between the suction and the pressure and the feeling of his finger inside her, she couldn’t hold back any longer. She pulled in a breath and the candle dropped. Hot wax covered her belly and pain shot through her, so magical and intense she very nearly lost her sanity to the moment.
She screamed through the orgasm. It was like someone was being murdered inside her head, like it was someone else who was screaming, someone else who was coming. Her body was covered by a billion pinpricks of electric light that wormed their way into her soul and burned with the power of the sun. She could feel the force explode outward from her center and collect in her extremities, boiling the blood there and leaving them tingling as if they’d lost circulation.
The attention between her legs was suddenly gone and his hot breath appeared on her throat once again. The pressure increased slowly, his hard teeth sinking deeply into her skin. It was pleasurable at first, but the sensation quickly changed into something dangerous and Amy couldn’t breathe. Her windpipe was being closed off, the cartilage inside crunching as the man’s jaws slowly closed. White lights flashed around her failing vision. There was a low, wolf-like growl coming from her unseen lover and she could feel something changing as the bite became more predatory. Sharper.
His head snapped violently from side to side and Amy tried to scream but nothing came out except the torrent of blood that flowed from the wound. Amy was dying, she was sure of it.
Through it all her orgasm raged, the pain and surety of death mingling so perfectly with the pleasure it was impossible to tell where one stopped and the other began.
Amy woke up panting for air, her t-shirt soaked through and her hand working furiously between her legs. She had her thighs clamped tightly together while she plunged two fingers inside herself even as she realized it was nothing but a dream.
She pulled her shaking hand from between her legs and lifted it to her face. Her entire hand was covered in come, her glistening fingers still shaking and tingling as if a mild electric shock was going through them. She slipped them into her mouth and layback on her sweat soaked pillows. Smiling to herself around a mouthful of her own creamy orgasm, Amy realized how much she loved that dream.

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The Fires of Beltane by Ayla Ruse

Ayla Ruse, ebook, erotic, gothic/horror, m/f, multiple partners, Publisher: Total-E-Bound Publishing 1 Comment
The Fires of Beltane by Ayla Ruse

The Fires of Beltane
Scared Stiff (multi-author collection)
by Ayla Ruse

Total-e-Bound Publishing

eBook ISBN: 978-0-85715-931-1

Natalie and William meet at an annual springtime festival, where, unknown to the participants, there is someone using the festival to exploit it’s darker history. This night will test Natalie and William’s attraction, but could it also cost them their lives?

Note: Prologue omitted.

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Chapter One

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Between 3 by J.L. Oiler

ebook, erotic, fantasy, gothic/horror, J.L. Oiler, m/f/m, menage, paranormal, Publisher: Rebel Ink Press 1 Comment

Between 3
by J.L. Oiler

Rebel Ink Press

eBook ISBN: RIP0001026

When Celeste Drain attempted to make a break from an abusive relationship, she never dreamed she’d fall into an erotic ménage with two extremely hot strangers. Their one-night stand was the beginning of her new life, a life of self-reliance and inner strength. Now six months later, Celeste has a steady job at the same bar where she met her lovers, a home, and she’s building a new existence.

Chapter One

Celeste sat silently watching out the window of the big pickup truck as they pulled into the parking lot of the local hotspot. The place was crowded as usual, which in this case was a very good thing. It wasn’t as if there were many places to go out here and they’d worn their welcome out at all the spots closer to home, just about twenty miles up the road. The crowd meant Cliff was less likely to use her like a punching bag when she broke the news to him that they were through.
She’d covered one too many bruises and made far too many excuses for him over the past six months. After tonight, she didn’t intend to let it ever happen again. Even now, she found herself forced to wear a shirt with sleeves that covered three quarters of her arms. It was a necessity, even in this ninety-plus degree weather. She was trying to hide his latest onslaught. She’d attempted to cover the dark, purplish blue finger marks with makeup, but in the end conceded that it was impossible. At least the marks would heal enough that she could still get some use out of those frilly tank tops she bought before the weather turned cooler, not that it ever managed to get too cold in Death Valley Junction. The lowest she remembered it getting was around sixty-five and that was in December. Of course, that all hinged on the idea that Cliff didn’t kill her when she broke the news. Most likely, leaving him would cause a ripple of difficulties. She should’ve known better than to get involved with the boss’s son. Tonight she’d not only be dropping a boyfriend, but her job answering phones at the construction company as well.
In honesty, Celeste didn’t understand why she’d stayed so long. That a ha moment came last evening while she was listening to the radio and scrubbing his latest fit from the kitchen floor. It was a silly thing really, a sappy country song empowering her. Nevertheless, she didn’t care what gave her the strength to stand up for herself, only that whatever it was worked.
Unfastening her seat belt, she slid out of the passenger side and walked toward the establishment’s front entrance, nervous butterflies dancing in her stomach. Reading the flashing name as she moved, Celeste sighed. The Devils Playpen. Great–that sounded promising. She’d definitely need a few drinks before accomplish what she knew she had to get done. Following closely at Cliff’s heels, she caught the door as he entered first and pushed the heavy wooden structure closed behind him. “Such a gentleman,” she mumbled under her breath as she pulled a twenty out of her jeans pocket to pay the cover charge while Cliff made a beeline toward the bar. This was another thing Celeste definitely wouldn’t miss. From here on out, if she was going out with a man, he’d better be footing the bill or at least splitting the cost.
Spotting an empty table in the far corner near the edge of the bar, Celeste stuffed her change into her pocket and pushed her way through the crowd to grab the seat before someone else beat her to it. The place was rocking as a local band played on the small stage in the back of the dimly lit bar. The growing crowd meant she’d have to ask someone to slide their chair up as she journeyed toward the open table. About midway to her destination, she bumped against a large male as he carried two mugs of draft beer, some of which splashed onto her blouse.
“Oh, sorry hun. Looks like I thought you were going to take part in a wet t-shirt contest.”
Looking up, Celeste found herself gazing into the most brilliant set of blue eyes she’d ever seen. Of course, the fact his face resembled a statute of a chiseled God complete with dimples didn’t slip her notice either. Dumb struck for a moment, she gaped like a fish out of water before finding her voice. His massive biceps were covered with as mattering of tribal tats and those gorgeous lips made her hot and bothered. Damn but she’d always loved the biker bad boy type and this man was sin wrapped in a heavenly package. “I’m sorry. It was totally my fault.” She could feel the heat of a blush creep up her chest and face as he smiled down at her.
“No problem, sweetheart.”
She watched as the man headed off in the direction he’d been heading before she had dang near knocked the beer from his hands. Sighing, she noticed as he took a seat beside a petite blond that looked like she’d stepped out of one of those calendars you find in a greasy auto body garage. Figured a man like that would like a size zero blond. Just once Celeste wished a guy like that would give her a second glance. One thing about it, from the look of things, his little pop tart girlfriend wasn’t too happy with him. Celeste might not be able to hear the words they exchanged but she knew the look well. She just wished she’d asked his name.
Finally heading on her way again, she bumped shoulders with at least two other patrons in her attempt to grab the establishment’s last available table. Pulling out a chair and plopping her bottom into it so that she could watch most of the room, she motioned for a beer as a waitress passed by. Looking around, Celeste realized the place seemed like a who’s who of working class folks, from bikers to bikini waxers. Mister gorgeous was shouting and busting knuckles with half a dozen of his buddies as his pop tart princess filed her nails and shot them all dirty looks. At a table near them sat five construction workers, several of which she recognized from work. Not that she actually had much contact with the workers, but rather had been the one to hand them the pink slips Cliff’s dad had given most of them a little over a month ago. From the looks of it, they’d found work with another company. Girls of every size, shape, and ethnicity imaginable packed the place. “Just like Santa Claus, filled with Ho, Ho, Ho’s,” she said with a chuckle as the waitress sat down the beer bottle and collected three bucks.
“Give me ten bucks,” Cliff’s gruff tone said from nearby as Celeste looked up and watched him move toward the table, a bottle in his hands and a dusty white mustache below his hawkish nose. Great, just what she needed, a flying high, cocaine psycho.
“Do I look like your banker?” She hissed at him overtop her beer.
“I want in on that pool game. Just hand me some fucking money.”
Celeste tossed a ten on the table and took a long drink of her beer. “When you’re done playing, we need to talk”
“Whatever.” Cliff staggered off, leaving her alone at the table, as was often the case. At least this time she was sitting where she could watch some sexy eye candy. To make things even better, an equally gorgeous friend, in a pair of black leather chaps, joined her sexy biker.
* * * *
“Hey Craig, what’s happening?” Justin looked up from his beer to greet his best friend and comrade. Craig and his team had been out scouting for females and it appeared their search hadn’t been successful.
The group had been topside for a little over two weeks, trolling for females who could handle the life of the Keepers. They only had twenty-four hours left before they needed to return to the underground city of Haden to man their posts guarding the gates to hell.
Keeping the hellhounds, demons, and some impish spirits in line was a hazardous and time-consuming job, not to mention that the conditions of living in the bowels of the earth tended to be a bit daunting. Alright, so other little difficulties didn’t have woman jumping at the chance to join them. Not known for being the gentlest lovers, and the fact they existed in teams, meant that the ratio was two Keepers and one woman. Ménage was the term Craig had heard some people use.
“Looks like you might have a prospect,” Craig commented, giving the tiny bubble headed blond seated beside him a semi interested once over.
“Maybe, but I wouldn’t bet on it.” The blonde was willing enough, but the last thing he wanted was some daft chick that whined around and couldn’t hold a conversation higher than that of a schoolgirl. He also couldn’t get the woman who’d bumped into him and spilled beer all over her shirt, out of his mind. Justin thought she was built to lay between two of his kind. Full curves, long dark hair, blue eyes like the deep pools in the east caverns, and lips meant for hours of hot kissing. Her voice sounded like a lovers stroke across his cock, leaving him ready for action.
“Do you have another in mind?” Craig had always been able to read him easily, which was why they were the best team in their division. They’d been together for the past century, always having each other’s back when the shit got deep, as it did far too often. Unfortunately, in all that time, they hadn’t found a lover capable of satisfying their needs for more than a single romp and there’d been no-one they’d consider capable of taking back to Haden. They needed someone to be a productive member of the team, not just a mindless, whiney sex object. After all, there was more to life then rolling around naked and grunting all day. They needed a smart, intelligent woman with two strong hands and a sense of humor. Though tonight they’d admit a good romp in the sack was forefront in their minds. They’d gone a long time without the comforts of a soft, womanly body.
Rather than answer right out and be rude to the brainless female giggling at his side, Justin smiled then shot a look across the room toward the pretty brunette. She’d been watching them and looked away when both men looked her way.
What they both really wanted was to find an Atrey mate, a female who would forever be their third, the mother of their children and their soul mate. The Atrey were a rare breed of beings that dwelled between the two worlds, not human and not Keeper. They were something between the two. They held the physical attributes of the human side yet were gifted with the longevity and cunning of the Keepers. The largest difference between the Atrey was that unlike the Keepers, the Atrey were all females. Each of the current Keepers housed inside the guard compound, with the exception of Miren, came from Atrey mothers. The Atrey mate formed an unbreakable bond with their Keeper mates, symbolized by the formation of the mate marks, the perfect third. Unfortunately, no one had seen an Atrey for over a human century.
* * * *
“Damn,” Celeste mumbled under her breath. She tried to pretend the two sexy bikers didn’t catch her staring. Ordering herself something a little harder than a beer, she leaned back in the chair to watch the men across the room once again. Something interesting was happening and Celeste had a front row seat for all the action. Too bad she couldn’t hear what they said. Obviously, the female was unhappy with something said by the second male that had just arrived. Celeste watched the girl bob her blond head back and forth as she spoke then she turned toward the male seated to her right and gave him a serious pout. After he said something else to her, she stood and stomped off toward the bar, leaving the two sexy males at the table alone.
Neither male followed the little pop tart nor did they seem affected by her departure. The second male took the seat vacated by the pissed off chick and chatted for a moment or two with his friend. Celeste would have loved to be able to hear what they discussed. It might have given her a heads up when they both raised their heads and looked directly at her as she sat grinning. The new comer raised his beer bottle in a bar type hello as she felt heat creep up her face for the second time in a very short span. The mere look of the two of them was enough to leave her pussy wet. In fact, Celeste couldn’t help imagining being sandwiched between those to hard bodies as they buried their cocks deep inside her.
“Caught again,” she mumbled as she nodded back to the man.
“Give me another twenty,” Cliff grumbled as he returned from the pool table where his opponents watched him suspiciously. Evidently, he’d bet more cash then he could pay.
“Use your own money.”
“I said give me another twenty.” Cliff stepped closer toward her, his face turning red and the tale tell vein in his forehead throbbing at her.
“It’s not my responsibility to pay your gambling debts,” Celeste threw back at him. She was tired of paying his debts both financially and physically. She was more determined than ever to end this now.
“You stupid, fucking bitch!” he screeched as he reached out and grabbed a handful of her long hair. Using it to jerk her to her feet, he reached into her front pocket for the cash. Celeste screamed, feeling as though he was about to scalp her. Enough was enough.
“You fucking bastard, let go of me.” She kicked him hard in the shin, the impact making a loud thud when her boot struck. It wasn’t enough to do any real damage but it did succeed in making him release the grip he had on her hair.
“Take that shit outside,” the barkeeper yelled as he came toward them both with a worn and dented wooden bat in his big, meaty hands. Clearly the piece has seen its share of domestic disputes in its time.
It wasn’t exactly what Celeste wanted, to go outside. That meant there’d be no witnesses and no Calvary should Cliff decide he couldn’t live without her to knock around. Still, she had more self-respect than to tremble like a frightened rabbit in front of a bunch of strangers. Standing up, she brushed herself off, rubbed the sore spot on the top of her head and gave the barkeep a tight smile as an apology before flipping her soon to be ex the bird. Heading for the door, she caught a glimpse of the two sexy bikers a few short feet away. Were they planning to intervene on her behalf? It would be nice as hell to know there were still some real men out there. Too bad Celeste just never seemed to luck into one.
* * * *
“I can’t believe you actually told her we only do threesomes and she wasn’t big enough for the ride.” Justin shook his head and chucked before taking another swig from the long neck bottle. Craig had never been one to waste words, which is one of the reasons they were together. Justin always knew where the other male stood on things.
“Why not? It’s not like she was the type that would last very long with two of us. Anyway, I like the perky girl you pointed out earlier. Looks like someone we could ride for hours and still not mind waking up to.” Craig raised his beer bottle toward the woman who’d been staring at them and smiled as she blushed and waved back.
“That might be a problem.” Justin watched as a man who appeared to have already had one drink too many stalked toward her.
Both Keepers froze in disbelief as they watched the man grab the female by her hair and pull her from the seat, her feet nearly leaving the floor as he screamed obscenities at her. Not known for gentleness in the throes of passion, never would one of their kind treat a female in such a barbaric way. Rage radiated off both men, their protective instincts on full alert. Hell be damned if they’d stand by and watch a woman be abused. Standing, they moved in unison, crossing the distance between them and the woman quickly. The barkeeper, seeing the skirmish, also moved toward the woman and as he slapped the thick bat against his palm, he ordered the pair outside.
Justin watched the female rub her head and then give her best apologetic smile to the barkeep before turning to flip her middle finger at the male who’d so viciously man handled her. She exited the place at a quick pace, her head held high. The drunk man spit on the floor at the bartender’s feet and headed out after her, a vengeful look in his eyes.
“I think we should go make certain things don’t get ugly,” Craig said as he turned to follow the couple into the dark parking lot.
“Robert, I suggest you return to your job and forget everything you just saw,” Justin told the bartender who looked at the two Keepers, both twice his size, and nodded his head. They’d been coming to this establishment for a while and had a sort of unspoken agreement. The staff knew there was something a bit different about the men but kept their distance. In return, Justin and Craig allowed nothing to get out of hand, and protected the staff from any unexpected danger.
“Craig, wait up, we need to be cautious.” The last thing they needed was a dead body in the mix because his partner decided to break the bastard they were following in half. Violence probably wasn’t the best way to ask the woman if she’d like to go somewhere and get to know the pair of them a little better.
“I won’t kill him if that’s what you’re worried about,” Justin’s partner tossed over one broad shoulder as he stepped out the door.
“I hope not. Were still cleaning up from the last time you got angry with a human.”
* * * *
“How dare you disrespect me like that, you stupid cunt!” Cliff caught up with Celeste just outside the door, grabbing her by the arm and jerking her to a stop. His fingers bit into her skin, leaving little doubt she’d be sporting a fresh set of bruises by morning.
“Get your damn hands off me. We’re through, you hear me? I don’t care if it costs me my job. I don’t ever want to see your face again,” Celeste screamed at him, wrenching her arm away, turning to face him with all her fury.
“You uppity bitch. You think you can just use me and walk away scot-free?”
“Use you? I’m the one that pays all the bills and covers your ass when you’re too drunk to work.” How could he possibly accuse her of using him, the good for nothing slug.
“You have your job because I’m the son of the boss. You fucked me to keep it.”
“No, I took your beatings to keep it, but never again.”
“Where do you think you’re going to go?” he asked, spraying her with spit as he spoke. “No one else would want to fuck your fat ass.”
“Being alone and taking care of myself would be better than sleeping with you.”
Reaching out, he caught her by the shirt and pulled her forward as he swung his other fist, punching her hard in the face. While Celeste always laughed at the cartoons where the character saw stars when struck, now she could vouch that it was possible.
“What the f..” she heard Cliff yelp as he released his hold on her shirt and she crumbled to the ground, the world around her beginning to spin.
* * * *
Craig stepped outside just in time to hear the female say she’d rather satisfy herself then deal with the jerk she stood facing down and to watch in horror as the husky man swung and knocked the woman to the ground.
Anger seething through him, if Justin hadn’t taken the lead and grabbed hold of the idiot first, human blood would have hit the ground big time. Instead, Craig fought to reign in his own demon while his partner gave the man a good thrashing and used his true face to suggest the stupid human never come near the woman again.
Without the guise of their human face, their flesh became taunt over a bone structure that was sharper and more defined. Monstrous, he remembered some woman saying when he lost control of the mask in a moment of passion. By the look on the face of the human Justin released to run away, he’d heard the order loud and clear. Now they needed to see to the female, hoping, the strike hadn’t injured her too badly.

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Take One At Bedtime by Jenny Twist

ebook, ghost, gothic/horror, Jenny Twist, m/f, mainstream, print, Publisher: Melange Books, sci-fi, time travel 8 Comments

Take One At Bedtime
by Jenny Twist

Melange Books

eBook ISBN: None Given
Print ISBN: 978-1-61235-064-6

Nobody ever goes upstairs in Margaret’s house. So what is making the strange thumping noises up there? And why is there a toy rabbit under the kitchen table? Margaret’s Ghost is just one of a collection of short stories including the romance tales A Castle in Spain and Jess’s Girl.

Author’s Note: Below is one full story from this collection.
Jess’s Girl

“Good God, it’s Jess’s girl.”
Robyn looked up. The man approaching her across the hotel lobby was wearing a morning suit and a button-hole, so he must be one of the wedding guests, but she didn’t recall ever having seen him before. Of course, she didn’t know all of Brenda’s friends.
She stood up, feeling perplexed, and the man put out his hand.
“Sorry, sorry, you don’t know me. Colin Williams, Jess’s friend. You must think I’m barking mad. It’s just I’ve always wanted to meet you. You won’t believe this, but I’ve been carrying your picture around with me for the last two years.”
He fumbled in his pocket and brought out a rather shabby leather wallet, flipped it open, extracted a snapshot and handed it to Robyn.
She breathed in sharply and abruptly sat down again.
****
It was Jess. Jess and her at the party. She in a schoolgirl’s outfit, he in flowing Arab robes. They were both laughing.
A great wave of longing swept over her as she looked at his face in the photograph. It was as powerful as if she had only seen him yesterday.
“I don’t suppose you remember,” Colin said and was shocked at the wounded look that came into her eyes.
Of course she remembered. She had been remembering for fifteen years. The night of the fancy dress party….
****
She hadn’t even wanted to go. It was Brenda who had wanted to go, the same Brenda who had got married this afternoon. At that time she had been in pursuit of some chap – Todd? Toby? Robyn couldn’t remember. Nothing came of it anyway.
But Brenda had persuaded her to devote her precious once-a-week night out with the girls to some stupid student party in some revolting student flat with mis-matched, rickety furniture and vile wallpaper.
And now Brenda had disappeared into the smoky interstices of the flat, leaving her alone amongst a crowd of people she didn’t know and didn’t want to know.
It was a typical student party. Far too many people crowded in a small space, smoking and clutching cans of beer. There was even the mandatory group of medics, two of them dressed in surgical gowns and masks, eagerly reciting the “Dead Parrot” sketch.
She felt too old for this. She was, in fact, the same age as most of these students, but marriage and motherhood had set her apart, made her more mature.
If she hadn’t met Neil in her last year at school and fatefully got pregnant, she would have been one of these carefree students, having intense discussions about obscure topics.
She didn’t regret missing it. It all seemed a bit puerile now. And she loved Neil and the baby of course…
She looked up and her eye fell upon a man dressed as an Arab. His outfit didn’t have the hastily–assembled look of most of the others. In fact, if not for his fair hair and blue eyes, he could have been mistaken for a genuine Arab.
He looked up and their eyes met, and something passed between them – some connection. His eyes widened in surprise and he began walking towards her, still holding her gaze. She found herself unable to look away and was gripped by a mild panic.
But all that happened was he said, in a perfectly pleasant and ordinary voice, “Is there room for another on that sofa?”
She gave the sofa a dubious look. “There’s room,” she said, surprised at how normal her voice sounded, “but whether it can support the extra weight is another matter.”
He laughed and sat down. The sofa creaked alarmingly and lurched slightly, but remained intact.
“That looks genuine. Is it?” she said, indicating his robe.
The man looked down. “Oh, the Djellaba?” he said. “Yeah, I lived in Morocco for a while.”
“It would be entirely convincing if your beard was darker,” she said, thinking she was being clever.
He met her eyes and again that strange communication passed between them, almost like an electric current.
“Oh, but there are Arabs with fair colouring,” he said. “The Berbers.”
****
He went on to tell her about his travels in Spain and Africa. He was a good teller of tales. Amusing and erudite. She listened, fascinated.
And he seemed equally fascinated by her life, her marriage to Neil, her frustrated hopes for university, the baby. He asked questions and watched her face as she spoke. He made her feel as if she were the only person in the world.
They discussed politics and religion, told anecdotes about people they knew. They were as intense as the others around them. And they laughed a lot.
They found their respective names hilarious – Jess and Robyn – he with a girl’s name, she with a boy’s. “We wouldn’t half confuse people if we were a couple,” Jess said, and Robyn shivered with secret pleasure at the idea.
When she told him she was married she thought he winced slightly, but the expression was gone before she could be sure, and she wondered if she had imagined it.
“Do you love him?” he asked.
“Of course I love him,” she replied hotly. “I wouldn’t have married him otherwise.”
Jess smiled. “Well, people do,” he said gently.
And she wondered to herself at how hard it had been to say that to Jess. To tell him that she loved her husband. As if she were justifying herself. As if she didn’t love him. But she did. Of course she did.
And all the time they were talking she was aware of that connection between them. They were sitting side by side, not touching and she felt an overwhelming need to touch him, just brush her hand against his, perhaps. But she also felt that it was dangerous. That they both knew that if they touched something irrevocable would happen. That they would lose control. But neither of them acknowledged it.
And as they talked she ached with longing and did nothing.
****
Later he said, “You’re going to have to do it, you know.”
“Do what?” she had asked, somewhat alarmed.
“Go to university.”
She started to shake her head, but he carried on. “If you don’t, you will come to resent them, your nice husband and your lovely child. Because they stopped you from finding out what you are capable of. You have to do it for them as well as you.”
He leant forward, as if he was going to take her hand and she drew in her breath sharply. But he pulled his hand back as if from a flame.
“I must go,” he said abruptly, stood up and walked out of the room. He didn’t look back. He just left.
And she watched him go in an agony of indecision. She wanted to run after him. Call to him to come back. Tell him she was wrong. She didn’t love her husband. She loved him, Jess. Just like in all the best Mills & Boon novels. Love at first sight. Love that throws all caution to the wind.
But she did none of those things. She sat and waited for Brenda to come back. And she said nothing. Because her voice was full of tears.
****
And Jess had haunted her ever since.
When she went on holiday to Spain with Neil, she had thought how much better it would have been with Jess. Jess would have known stuff. He would have been able to speak to the natives. He would have known interesting things to see. They wouldn’t have spent the entire fortnight on the beach. They’d have gone exploring.
When she went to university she thought how much she would have loved to share it with Jess. Jess would have understood why she had to do it and encouraged her. Jess would have had interesting insights.
And at night she thought of Jess, wondering how it would have been with him, this man she had never even touched.
And when, at last, Neil left her for another woman, despite her outrage and distress, her first thought was, “I could have had Jess. I stayed with you when I could have had Jess.”
But, of course, she didn’t know that. She would never know whether he had felt the same. Because nothing had happened.
****
“Nothing happened,” she said, looking at Colin through tears. “Nothing happened.”
As if it mattered. As if anyone cared in this day and age about the sanctity of marriage and sense of duty. Why should she care what he thought anyway?
“I know,” he said. “I know all about the nothing that happened. Jess and I were really close. He came back to my place after the party and he said, ‘Tonight I met the woman I want to marry, and she’s married to someone else.’ And he wept.”
Robyn felt a mad surge of joy. She wanted to kiss this kind man, this stranger who had told her what she had always wanted to know.
“I told him to go back and find you,” Colin said. “I told him to try and persuade you. That he might never meet another woman who would measure up. That he had to at least try.” He paused. “But he refused. He said you loved your husband and he had no right to interfere. He was, you know, honourable – an honourable man. And later,” he went on, “when I had the pictures developed, I found this one of you together and he kept it. It’s been all over the world, that picture.”
A dreadful thought suddenly crossed Robyn’s mind. “So why have you got it now?” she asked. “He’s not…”
Colin smiled. “It’s OK. Nothing’s happened to him. He gave it back to me when he got engaged. He said it wasn’t fair to his wife to keep it and he couldn’t bear to destroy it.”
The pain was so great she couldn’t breathe. It was huge, overwhelming. “He’s married?” she whispered.
Colin said something, but she didn’t hear. Because she felt something. She knew before she looked up. He was here, coming through the doorway with a small child on his shoulder and a women walking beside him.
He was incongruously dressed in a formal suit and his hair and beard were shorter, with just a touch of grey. But otherwise he looked exactly the same.
He saw her and stopped in mid-stride so suddenly that he almost dislodged the child. His hand went up automatically to steady him, then he gently lifted the child down, put him on his feet and began striding towards her.
“You!” he said, his voice low and fierce, sounding almost like a threat.
She put her hands up as if to ward him off.
Then she turned away in agony and met the eyes of the woman who had come in with Jess.
She smiled. “You must be Jess’s girl. The one in the photograph. You haven’t changed much. I’m Wendy, Colin’s wife.”
“Colin’s wife? I thought…” Robyn stopped in confusion.
The little boy had climbed on Colin’s knee and was saying, “Look what Uncle Jess bought me, Dad.”
Robyn managed to smile. “I’m sorry, I assumed you were Jess’s wife.”
Wendy looked confused.
Colin said, “He didn’t go through with it, Robyn. That’s what I was trying to tell you. He said it wasn’t fair on her. She could only ever be second best.”
Jess was still standing over her, his face a mask of despair.
“I’m divorced, Jess,” she said. Her voice came out in a rusty whisper and she was afraid he hadn’t heard her. She started to clear her throat to try again.
But he bent over and swept her up into his arms in one easy movement. And it happened, just as she had always imagined it would, a rush of pleasure as her whole body rejoiced in holding him. Jess gave a low moan and tightened his grip.
“I love you,” he said. “I have always loved you, from the moment I first saw you in that ridiculous schoolgirl’s outfit with your hair in bunches.”
Robyn was looking up at him, laughing and crying at the same time. “Me too,” she said.
Unnoticed, a small piece of paper fluttered to the ground and Colin bent to pick it up.
“I don’t suppose he´ll be needing this now,” he said, tucking the photograph back in his wallet.

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Visionquest by Laura Tolomei

dark fantasy, ebook, erotic, GLBT, gothic/horror, Laura Tolomei, m/m, m/m/m, menage, paranormal, Publisher: eXtasy Books, shapeshifter Add Comment

Visionquest
by Laura Tolomei

eXtasy Books

eBook ISBN: 978-1-55487-724-9

It wasn’t till he took me to his bed and made love to me, for the first time… that in spite of everything, I gave him what he wanted most, my soul in its entirety, for I knew right there and then I was sealing my destiny forever.

Chapter One

“Hey, Ilenio, wait up!”
I turned. “Hello, Athrias.” I smiled at the young man coming my way, followed by a herd of sheep. “Going home early, too?”
He nodded vigorously. “After all that’s happened at the village, my father doesn’t want me to stay out late.”
“Yeah, I know.” I fumbled, whistling to my sheep to resume the path down the mountain. “It’s not like it used to be.”
“You can say that again! That…beast—or whatever you care to call it—is really making people afraid.” Angrily, my friend tossed his head back. “We’re not free to go out at nights or whenever we feel like it.”
“Well, I for one wouldn’t want to end up like those butchered corpses.” A sad smile curved my lips at the memory of the nasty pictures my nightmares tormented me with of late.
“So you’ve seen them?” Lowering his voice, he came closer, a glint of insane curiosity flashing in his eyes.
“Hem…not really.” I blushed. No one knew about those dreams, but they were getting so bad, they had simply slipped out. “Just heard someone say how terrible the bodies looked when they found them.”
“Especially since that beast takes it out on people our age.” Athrias shook his head, then took a step back as if I weren’t so interesting after all. “Have you heard about the last one?”
Not in so many words. Nauseated by his sickly gossipy tone, I tried stopping the gory image of a young body crossed by bloody slashes, one deep in the throat, another at the crotch like a giant hole instead of the usual sexual organs, without any success. “Not in any detail,” I lied eventually, ignoring the cold shivers running down my back.
He moved closer again, this time though as if wanting to make sure I wouldn’t miss a word. “I heard my father tell my uncle it was cut up so bad, the Patroniter had trouble identifying it.”
I sighed. “Oristan is as befuddled as the rest of us. And who could blame him? They tell me that poor girl—”
“No, Ilenio, it wasn’t a girl, but a boy.” He lowered his voice. “They tell me the killer had fun cutting off his cock.”
So that’s why he had a giant hole where it should’ve been! Sick to my stomach, I couldn’t reply. Then again, who needs pictures nowadays? Apparently, word got around fast in our village.
“And that was just the last thing they did to him.” Athrias grim tone sounded ominous. “My father was so disgusted he couldn’t talk about the other details, but one thing seems certain.”
The killer must be an animal for sure. There’s no other explanation. Those gashes came from nothing human, not even close to being done with a knife.
“Oristan is convinced it’s an animal.”
“Too bad he can’t seem to catch it.” Raising my gaze to glance at the last rays of the day, I felt their warmth despite the season’s turn for the cold.
“My father’s the Patroniter’s only assistant.” Athrias shrugged. “There should be more men or resources since the Seigneuros abandoned our county two years ago.”
“Right after the raptor’s massacre, right?” Of course, I remembered the last time we had seen the master of Griphonis Castle in our midst, the same time five people were slaughtered in one single night and since one of them was found on a tree, it had given rise to the common saying about a bird being responsible for the horrifying incident. And what if it’s him this time, too?
My friend nodded. “And one of them was Adur’s son, his only son if I remember correctly.”
“Wasn’t he the one they found up the tree?”
“Yeah, he was.” Athrias pause a while, probably the memories working on him, in spite of his macho attitude. “And they had a tough time taking him down, too.” Shaking his head sadly, I saw him give in to the first real emotion since we started talking. “What a horrible way to end!”
“My father told me he wasn’t living with his parents anymore when he got killed.”
“You’re right. He was much older than us and I think he was working at the castle already.” Turning to glance behind his shoulder, Athrias checked on the sheep. “Well, wherever he was living, it didn’t save him from the raptor’s fury.”
“It’s strange how it all blew over that time, though they never caught the killer.” I followed his example before continuing. “And the myth about the raptor—”
“What else could’ve taken a body, and a dead one at that, up a tree if not a bird?”
“So maybe the same thing’s responsible for the new deaths.”
“Not a chance.” The young man’s eyes blazed in denial. “My father says there are too many differences between the way the people back then were killed and the wounds he found on the recent killings. They’re completely different, which means something else entirely is at work now.”
Possibly, but we’re no nearer catching this one than we were the last one. No need to share the thought, so we walked in silence for a while.
“Besides, last time the Seigneuros himself followed my father’s investigations closely while now…” He shrugged nonchalantly. “He doesn’t seem to give a damn about his people being butchered.”
I yawned. Like my father, I felt our land was better off without any demanding Seigneuros to watch our backs. And even were he to return, I was sure he would be as powerless as the Patroniter to stop the brutal murders, which—I couldn’t help noticing—coincided with my coming of age and the start of my nightmares. Dejectedly, I cleared my head free, unwilling to think about either, then yawned again.
“Come on!” Whistling softly, Athrias turned to his herd once more. “We’re almost home.”
Raising my gaze, I caught sight of our village, nestled in the fertile Iotaris Valley, right under the imposing mountain that held Griphonis Castle. Soft glows lit its wooden cabins, scattered around a central square in a circular pattern. Together, we sped up the leisurely pace, prodding the sheep to imitate us, until we reached the large market place where our paths divided. Nodding a brief goodbye, we separated, each having to go a different direction to get home.
“Good evening, son.” Standing at the shed, my father checked the sheep crowding inside. “Was everything all right?”
“As usual.” Then looking at his face, I realized the same wasn’t true at home and fear clutched my stomach. “How’s Elianij?”
Corias’s forehead creased with more worry than his eyes had dared transmit. “Your baby sister has taken a turn for the worse,” he mumbled at last, weighing each word. “The doctor can’t do anything else for her.” He sighed heavily. “They tell me at Lycidare we may find a better doctor, but he asks for a lot of money, which we don’t—”
“Papa!” My younger brother’s high-pitched tone startled me. “I could work in the forest and get more money—”
“Hush, Artmos! You don’t know what you’re saying.” Raising his voice, Father shook an angry finger in front of my brother’s face. “Those jobs are dangerous enough for more experienced men, imagine for small brats like you, and we’re in enough trouble already with your sister without putting you at risk, too. How do you think your mother would take it? Do you want her to die of heartbreak?”
“No, of course not.” Artmos started apologetically, lowering his gaze to the floor. “I only wanted to help…”
“I know you did.” Corias’s tone softened as he patted my brother’s back. “But your mother would never forgive me if I let you go.”
“She must feel terrible…” I glanced at Father as my voice trailed off in the darkness.
“Come on, boys.” Straightening his shoulders, he threw back his head and tousled Artmos’s hair vigorously. “All’s not lost.” After we had all gone out, he closed the shed door, then headed toward the house. “Your mother has cooked an excellent stew and she’s waiting for us to enjoy it.” He patted me on the back. “I think you both earned it, so let’s move.”
Infected by his spirit, I smiled bravely and began following him. “And I’m starving.” Then quickening my step to keep up with him, I hurried along.
“Oh, and things are looking up for the village, too.” Swinging his gaze in my direction, Father’s eyes twinkled. “Have you heard the news?”
“What news?” Curious, I accelerated to keep up with him.
“The Seigneuros has returned to Griphonis Castle!” My little brother’s happy shout made us both smile. “And he’ll get rid of all the bad guys.”
“Right.” Corias nodded, opening our front door.
I kept my peace. If they chose to believe one man could actually make a difference in the battle between good and evil, I certainly wasn’t going to spoil their illusions. So I remained silent while we settled inside for our much needed nighttime rest however tormented mine was of late. But then they were only dreams or so I hoped as I bargained with the faceless entity above us to spare my sister’s life in exchange of mine, if necessary, or of whatever price he had set on it, which I would’ve gladly paid, anything to avoid my parents the agony of her loss. Yet, as I fell asleep, nothing came back from the vast darkness beyond the conscious realm except visions of blood and destruction, so that upon waking and finding my sister in the same conditions as the night before, I wondered why I had wasted my breath and precious time until I realized there was really not much else I could do for her or for myself either. And since it was the start of another brand new day, I got dressed and left.

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Black Dog and Rebel Rose by Danielle D. Smith

angels, Danielle D. Smith, dark fantasy, demons, ebook, erotic, gothic/horror, m/f, paranormal, print, Publisher: Solstice Publishing, vampire Add Comment

Black Dog and Rebel Rose
by Danielle D. Smith

Solstice Publishing

eBook ISBN: None Given
Print ISBN: 978-1453872451

Fifty miles of bad road will lead him and his rumbling Harley to an abandoned town and the vampyre hunt of his dreams. A sizzling tryst will lead him to discover that Rose is his soul mate, the girl who will make him abandon his lustful ways and make him hunger for her alone.

Prologue

The True Native hung over like a sack of bloody rags, wheezing; she could barely believe that he was still alive. The abuse and torture she had inflicted on him had left so little of him whole. It was only when she bent close and stared into his fire-filled eyes that the fierce wicked life inside of him welled up like lava to the surface.
She crouched down before him, the leather she wore squeaking softly, and her gaze was fearless. Any other woman would shrivel in terror upon beholding one of the demonic races, but for her, this was as natural as breathing. She leaned into him, her eyes narrowed, and he hissed and whined at her like a trapped animal.
“Talk,” she said. He bore his teeth, sharp and steely as razorblades and flecked with bloody spittle. She leaned closer.
“Talk.”
He spat blood at her. Her face was spattered with black gore and her response was lightning quick; her arm swung in a perfect arc and connected squarely with his jaw. There was a gruesome crunch as his razor teeth shattered and flew from his ruined mouth.
The demon screamed and flailed against his bonds.
She leaned even closer, and when he turned his head and stared at her, he saw something in her gaze that made his infernal guts shrivel.
“Don’t…” he croaked, his voice failing him. His mouth was a blood-blackened mess. His tongue was black as sin and forked like an infernal snake’s; it curled painfully around the stumps of his broken fangs.
She wiped some of his spittle from her face, the black slime streaking one scarred cheek. She flicked her fingers at him, spattering him with his own oral offal.
“What?” she hissed. “Don’t what?”
He growled liquidly in his throat and forced the words out in a verbal mush.
“D-don’t kill me,” he wheezed. She laughed harshly, tossing her head back.
“And why not?” she asked.
“B-because I don’t k-know—“
She leaned in again, her upper lip curling into a sneer. “I don’t believe you,” she hissed. He cringed at her fearlessness, the abnormal strength in her lean smooth limbs, and the terrible light in her eyes.
“B-believe me!” he cried in a hoarse stutter. “Would I l-lie to a h-hunter such as you?”
She snorted. “Dishonesty is in your nature, Hell slime,” she growled. He began to shriek in raw terror as she drew a wickedly sharp iron knife from the sheath at her hip.
“Wait!” he screamed, his fire-filled eyes blazing, his body jerking spastically in the old wingback chair she had tied him to. She could smell the Hell stink on him and it sent her belly roiling with hate and disgust.
“You waste my time, beast,” she grunted, but he continued to flop, his limbs wet with fear, sweat, and his own foul blood.
“Wait, lady! If you do not kill me, I can tell you of a great opportunity, worthy of no other hunter!”
She cleaned her nails with the tip of her blade, pondering his offer; as much as she wanted to spill his entrails all over the floor, his offer intrigued her and tempted her vanity.
“Go on,” she said. The demon panted, almost hysterical with relief; he would live to damn another day.
“A nest,” he gasped, spitting out blood and chunks of his own teeth and gums between his words. “The biggest n-nest…you sh-shall ever see.”
“A nest of what? Ghouls? Again, don’t waste my time.”
He coughed. “Vampyres.”
Her eyes gleamed hungrily. “A vamp nest? A coven?”
“Bigger than even a c-coven. Filled w-with Bloods. A s-s-swarm…”
His voice quivered badly and he spat out more blood and gory tissue. Before, she had forced him to swallow pure salt. It was surely burning him up like acid, as it burned all True Natives of the Pit. She licked her lips and toyed with her knife.
“Go on.”
“There is a t-town. Fifty miles out of the city—old f-factory town. D-dried up as old p-p-pig’s shit. B-Bloods began n-nesting there, taking over the old places. Might even be a few g-ghouls to t-t-top it off. Quite a fun time, l-lady.”
He went on, telling her everything he knew. When he fell silent again she smirked humorlessly and her blade shimmered in the night. The True Native began to howl.
“You said you w-wouldn’t!” he screamed. “You said—you fucking bitch!”
Then his voice was cut off by her knife slicing into his throat. The fire in his eyes flickered wildly like a guttering candle flame before dying out in a wash of foul black blood. She leaned close again and whispered into his pointed ear, her soft lips brushed against the folds.
“I lied,” she murmured and pulled the knife through his neck as if it were a column of butter, taking his head off with slick ease. She gripped the head by the hair and chucked it into a corner of the abandoned basement where she had imprisoned its owner. She listened with pleasure to the hollow thwack of it hitting the thick cement wall. The body shuddered grotesquely and exploded in a thick burst of orange light and smoking ash that blackened the old chair in which it was tied.
She stood panting, her breasts heaving, running her tongue over her lips. She had gotten so little out of him—she was no closer to discovering who killed her mother than she was a year ago—but the True Native offered up a tantalizing bit of information nonetheless.
A Blood’s nest. A fun challenge.
Maybe she needed a break from the tracking, the obsession.
Maybe a break would save what was left of her sanity.

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