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| Book 1: A New Orleans Threesome |
The Vampire, the Witch & the Werewolf:
Threesome in New Orleans
Haunted by
paranormal abilities that she can’t control, and plagued by nightmares about a
demon that seeks her soul, Lily Anima travels to New Orleans in search of salvation.
In the French
Quarter, Lily dives into the paranormal world and enlists the help of an
unlikely couple: a vampire, Lawrence Justice, and a werewolf, Trevor Pack.
As the trio
encounters ghosts, voodoo and unspeakable evil, will Trevor and Lawrence be
able to help Lily turn her powers into a gift rather than a curse? And when
Lily discovers that she needs to lose her virginity in order to embrace her
powers and get the demon off her back, will the twosome be able to survive as a
threesome?
m/m/f erotic paranormal
50,000 words
Excerpt
Chapter One
Lawrence
“I thought you two were supposed to hate each
other.”
The question came out of the darkness, and
beneath him, Lawrence could feel Trevor’s muscles flex, as if his werewolf
lover were readying himself for combat.
The coppery taste of Trevor’s blood filled
Lawrence’s mouth, and he stroked his tongue over his lips, making sure to catch
every drop, always careful to avoid the sharp points of his teeth. By now, the
act had become more than second nature. A young vamp had only to cut his tongue
a few times on his own teeth before learning an ever-after lesson. As for
Lawrence, he’d learned that trick of the trade more years ago than he’d care to
count.
“And where did you get that mythos? That
saccharine ’tween series that teaches abstinence?” Lawrence retorted, talking
while getting a bearing on their intruder. “No one has sex in those stories.
Just because the elusive and tortured vampire and the lovely nubile werewolf pretend not to like each other, doesn’t
mean that the entire species feels the same way.”
As she stepped out of the darkness and into
the shadows, her beauty struck him: petite, but muscular, well built, and well
proportioned. Legs that took up more than half her body length, with a tanned
creaminess that most people associated with beach bunnies slathered in silky
suntan oil. Oh, baby, he could almost smell the sweet coconut allure and feel
the sun’s warm rays from memory alone. Her short red leather skirt provided
plenty of bare thigh to draw him in.
From the feel of Trevor’s cock growing hard
against Lawrence, he obviously liked the way she looked, too. They had shared
women in the past, but this one carried an air about her. A magnetism that
called to him.
She took another step forward and stood
directly beneath a light, the gold streaks in her red hair shone. She glanced
up. As if on cue, the bulb flickered, sending out waves of darkness, until it
shattered and went dark. She took another step forward, high-heeled boots
crunching on broken glass.
“Holy shit,” Trevor said. “Law, let me up.”
Trevor pushed against Lawrence with his hips.
After shifting his own straining member
aside, Lawrence un-straddled Trevor’s body. The minute their bodies lost
contact, he immediately missed Trevor’s comforting heat. Nothing like a
were-boyfriend to keep one’s bed warm in winter.
“If left alone for too long,” Lawrence
continued on his oft-spoken fantasy, “I’m sure the two haters would eventually
become lovers.”
“That’s enough Lawrence,” Trevor said. “I’m
sure our uninvited guest came here for a reason, and it’s probably best we hear
what it is.”
The hair on the back of Trevor’s neck rose up
beneath Lawrence’s fingertips. His senses on high alert, Lawrence could see the
outer edges of Trevor’s nostrils flare out as if he was trying to catch her
scent.
“She doesn’t smell right,” he said,
whispering under his breath. “Not human … at least not totally, but I’m not
sure what else.”
“That’s what I’m hoping you’ll help me figure
out,” she said, walking closer. “I need to know what I am, and I heard that you
two may be able to help me.”
With his hand extended, Trevor looked
absolutely regal in his khaki pants, despite not wearing a shirt. He’d been
working out the past few months, and the muscles on his chest stood out. He’d
certainly buffed up since that night Lawrence found him beaten and near death
in the alley.
“I’m Trevor Pack,” he said, offering his hand
to their female guest. “This is my partner Lawrence Justice. And who might you
be?”
“Lilianna Anima,” she said, “but my friends
call me Lily. At least they used to. The past year, I’ve lost most of them.”
She ran her fingers through her hair, and the
corner of her eye twitched as if she had been reading too much, and sleeping
not enough.
“First, I’d like to know how you got in
here,” Trevor said, stepping in front of Lawrence, and spreading out his
stance. “And then, who sent you to us. We run an after-hours bookstore. I’m not
quite sure how we’re supposed to help you with anything, unless you’re looking
for some sort of rare, first-edition release.”
The lights above flickered, and with a quick
glance upward, Lawrence interjected. “Don’t mind the manners of my young
partner, Ms. Anima. Why don’t you make yourself comfortable, and I’ll make you
some tea.”
With his hand on her lower back, Lawrence led
her over to a black and white ’50s-style dinette set in the corner. Although
they lived in an oversized loft, the living space had been broken down into
different sections: kitchen, dining area, living room, and sleeping quarters.
Within the middle space, high Asian-influenced black partitions separated the
area. Around the outside of the floor, they had installed walls to afford
privacy in the bedrooms.
As soon as Lilianna sat in the chair, her
bravado deflated. Shoulders hunched forward, she rested her chin in the palms
of her hands, and shook her head, as if she wasn’t quite sure what she was
doing there. Lawrence motioned to Trevor to sit next to her, and he placed the
teakettle on to boil. After more than 180 years of being in this world,
Lawrence had learned that a soothing cup of chamomile tea with lavender honey
calmed just about anyone’s nerves. And Ms. Anima looked to need a shot of
whiskey in her brew too.
“So Ms. Anima, has anyone ever told you that
your last name means ‘soul’ in Italian?” Lawrence asked.
“Not in the first five minutes of
conversation,” she replied. “Has anyone ever told you that your name, ‘Law
Justice,’ is a bit redundant?”
“Ah, touché. But when you get to be my age,
you get to choose your name,” he said. “And I’m such a fan of irony. Isn’t that
true, Mr. Pack.”
Trevor’s laughter expanded the space, pushing
out the negative vibes surrounding Lily. She looked at him with a smile of her
own, and Lawrence’s heart did a little lurch. While he couldn’t read minds
outright, he could very much read people, and something told him that Ms. Anima
would bring some pain and joy into their lives.
As Lawrence poured the hot water into three
china cups, he readied himself for the conversation to come. Either they would
turn the lonesome creature away from their home and refused to help her, or
they would open the future to the unknown. He laid a slice of lemon onto each
matching saucer and carried all three to the table. One look in Lily’s eyes,
and Lawrence knew the choice already had been made. An option had never
existed.
She studied the blue floral pattern on the
china, dragging her ring finger around the delicate edge before picking up the
cup and taking a slow sip. She closed her eyes, and he could imagine the warm
liquid flowing down her equally delicate throat. Above the rim of his own cup,
Trevor met Lawrence’s gaze and he lifted his eyebrows in question. Lawrence
reached over and placed his hand on Trevor’s, sending an assurance that all
would be well.
Lily opened her eyes, and took in their
clasped hands. “Who’s the alpha?” she asked, disarming Lawrence’s sympathy.
“We have a long history together,” Trevor
said, in explanation. As if that wasn’t the understatement of the decade,
Lawrence thought, stifling further comment.
“Plus, having a werewolf as a lover,”
Lawrence said with a slight laugh, “definitely has its furrr-inge benefits. You
should try it someday.”
“Do you come as part of the deal?”
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