She Devil with Melissa Kendall

Warning: I don't normally feature adult excerpts, but the one Melissa provided is on fire! 18+ only, please!

She Devil

Melissa Kendall

Constance is a Vampire with a heavy appetite, who works as a stripper to find her meals. She is wanton, luscious and wicked—she craves more than just blood.

Benjamin and Jonathon are vampire outcasts who exist by pretending to be as human as possible in order to remain hidden among humanity. When the town they live in starts to report that men are disappearing? They go on the hunt for the Vampire intruder.

Little do they know, the Intruder is one sexy-delicious Vamp. Connie will offer them more than just a hunt… she will pull them into a tryst of sensual heat and naughty thrills.

Amazon

About The Author:

Melissa is a 37-year-old stay at home mum and part-time Software Support Consultant. She lives in Perth, Western Australia, the most isolated capital city in the world. 

She’s always loved to read and write and spent most of her teens scribbling poetry and short stories on any scrap of paper she could get her hands on. Over the years as daily life pressures got in the way, she lost the passion for it. After her son was born, she discovered online books and her interest in writing was rekindled. It has been a large part of her life ever since.

Website: http://www.melissakendall.net

Blog: http://mkendallauthor.blogspot.com.au

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/mkendallauthor

Twitter: @mkendallauthor

Excerpt (adult):

The grin that spread over his face made him look like he’d won the lotto. “Well, let’s get it on then!”

Classless fucking hick. Starving, she led him into the house and straight up to her bedroom.

“So, what now?” he queried.

“Why don’t you get naked while I freshen up?” She didn’t need to get clean, but she liked to get her meals worked up before she fed. She found the anticipation of what she might be doing in the bathroom, increased the hormones, pumping through their system. It made the feed tastier.

A few minutes later, she came back into the bedroom.

Blake stood at the end of the bed, naked as requested.

One look at his tiny little pin dick confirmed her suspicions. No fucking tonight. She then swiftly closed the distance between them.

He looked freaked out. “Wow, what’s wrong with your eyes—they’re black?”

“Oh, they’re just contacts. Cool aren’t they?” All the better to see you die with.

“If you say so.” He sounded doubtful. “Now bring your sexy ass over here, so I can show you how a real man fucks.”

Connie couldn’t contain her chuckle. Like you know how a real man does anything. However, she did as he demanded, making it quicker and easier to help her achieve her goal with a minimum of fuss. Inches away from his body, she gave him a nudge, knocking him down onto the bed.

“Oh yeah, come to papa, baby.”

Oh, lord will you stop with the cheesy fucking lines? She crawled over him, noticing for the first time how disgusting he smelled. His blood reeked of liquor and she regretted her decision of picking him to feed on. Regardless, she needed to drink.

Keeping up the charade that she’d be having sex with him, she rubbed her body against his, her pussy sliding right over his little dick.

“Oh yeah, sexy—rub all up on me.”

Connie looked forward to sinking her teeth into him, if only to shut him up.

Seconds from biting into the douche bag, she heard a noise from the stairs. Someone’s in my house. All her senses on alert, she listened hard to all the various sounds concentrating on identifying the intruder. The moment she caught the person’s scent, her whole body went rigid. A vampire?

She took a defensive position over Blake, expecting at any moment for the intruder to come flying at her, to steal her meal. Her initial instinct was to growl and tell them to fuck off. She waited, and the non-bloodlust part of her brain kicked in, telling her there was no danger. She figured whoever watched them must be enjoying the show, as they hadn’t tried to intervene.

Let’s make this a little more interesting. Slowly, she removed her clothes, giving the voyeur a display they’d never forget.

She tuned out Blake’s pathetic dirty talk, because he had nothing to do with the arousal coursing through her body. Connie needed a little relief for the ache between her legs. She knew Blake’s ineptness and selfish ways, along with his laughable excuse for a cock wouldn’t bring her any. Reaching between her legs, she inserted three fingers into her pussy as she let her bloodlust take over.

How To Woo… A Reluctant Bride with Lyndi Lamont

The creativity and generosity of Lyndi Lamont continues to amaze me. Sometimes you meet a person, and click! I'm thrilled to have her here today, sharing her sexy romantic historical.

My thanks to Louisa Bacio for inviting me to visit here at the Love Knows No Bounds blog. I had the pleasure of working with Louisa on our RWA chapter’s romance anthology, Romancing the Pages, which never would have seen the light of day without Louisa’s guiding hand. She’s one of the most organized people I know and I keep hoping some of it will rub off on me!

My newest release is the reissue of my Victorian short story, How To Woo… A Reluctant Bride, in which Victorian sensibilities collide with the sensual wisdom of the Kama Sutra. This was a fun story to write and to research, since I did, indeed, have to read the above-mentioned sex manual. It seemed the perfect way to spice up an arranged Victorian marriage.

The blurb and excerpt are below. I’m currently participating in the Something New, Something Naughty Blog Hop, which goes from January 10-13. If you are interested, head over to my blog, Lyndi’s Love Notes, and leave a comment to enter my giveaway for a $10.00 gift card of the winner’s choice. And to check out blog hop central for a chance at winning the Grand Prizes.

How To Woo… A Reluctant Bride

(Romantic Historical Short Story)

by Lyndi Lamont

Rating: Spicy

http://www.lyndilamont.com/ReluctantBride.html

Blurb:

A marriage contract, nothing more...until darkly handsome Evan Channing and demure Lydia Blatchford meet. Yet the rules are simple for an arrangement such as theirs. There should be no misunderstanding, no illusions of anything more.

But the rules are about to change when Evan is gifted with an intriguing copy of the Kama Sutra.  He sets out to win his high-born bride, blending seductive heat with exotic lessons in lovemaking. With a little help from Sir Richard Burton's new, provocative translation of ancient wisdom on seduction and arousal, the cold marriage bed of an arranged union is about to combust into a blazing flame of desire

(Previously published under the title Love… By the Book)

4 Angels...” a scintillating mix of lust and sexual exploration… Ms. Lamont has done a very nice job of bringing a bit of the exotic into her writing.” - Dawnie, Fallen Angel Reviews

Excerpt:

All through dinner, she was aware of his presence at her side. His quick smile, pleasant manners, his long, long fingers that occasionally brushed her hand. Then there was his deep voice murmuring in her ear during the meal. It mattered not what he said, the very sound of his voice sent alternate waves of heat and cold through her. She was barely been able to eat a bite, though she’d drained her wineglass more than once before the champagne toast was served. She drank that as well.

Now, feeling a bit woolly-headed, she walked out onto the balcony for some fresh air where a slight breeze cooled her heated face. The men were still having their port in the dining room while her mother and Phoebe sat and visited with Mrs. Channing. Lydia knew she should go back inside and converse with her future mother-in-law.

Lydia was eager to learn more about Evan’s childhood. She knew his father had died when he was a babe in arms, murdered during the Sepoy Uprising, and that Mrs. Channing’s Indian in-laws had protected her and the infant Evan from a similar fate. She must have loved her husband greatly, for she had never remarried.

It was a tale worthy of one of her favorite romance novels, but she wasn’t in the mood to be sociable. Thank heavens it was a small gathering, just her immediate family, Evan, his mother and his uncle Frederick. She’d never have been able to deal with a crowd tonight.

When the men entered the room, her gaze flew to Evan. He looked around the room, frowning, until he spotted her standing by the open door. A smile creased his face as he headed straight for her. She clutched the doorjamb as her heart started pounding.

“There you are,” he said, stopping in front of her. “I feared you’d left.”

“I just needed some fresh air,” she explained.

“Are you well?” he asked, taking her hand solicitously. Heat radiated from him, shooting up her arm.

“I’m fine, just a bit warm.”

“I am, too,” he said, guiding her to the railing looking over the small garden at the back of the house. The scent of roses and honeysuckle wafted up.

 “Since our engagement is official, I’ll send the announcement to the Times tomorrow, and then speak to the vicar about having the banns read. Shall we set a date now?”

She stiffened, staring straight ahead. Official. The word pounded in her head. Once the announcement was published, there would be no backing out. She closed her eyes, not knowing what to say.

“Lydia?”

Gently, he grasped her chin and turned her head toward his.

When she looked up, his expression was concerned.

“What’s wrong, my dear?”

Everything. But she could not say so. In truth, she was afraid of the weeks to come. Of what this marriage would mean.

How it would change her life.

He moved his hand to her shoulder. “Are you apprehensive?”

She managed a jerky nod.

“So am I,” he whispered.

She stared at him in astonishment. “Truly?”

“Truly. This is a big step for both of us. I realize we don’t know each other very well. If you’d like a long engagement–“

”No. Waiting will just make things worse.”

He quirked a dark brow. “How so?”

Taking a step back, she spread her hands. “It will just give me more time to dread–“

She broke off at the injured look on his face. “Forgive me, but surely you understand this marriage was never my preference.”

He turned away from her and ran a hand through his hair.

“Yes, I know, but I hoped you had become resigned to it.”

“I have. At least I have tried to be,” she said, the words tumbling out of her mouth. “That’s why I think it best just to plunge ahead. Once the banns have been read thrice, we can wed almost immediately.”

He turned back, a frown still marring his forehead. “Will that give your mother enough time to plan?”

She shrugged. “All I need is a new gown.”

“But won’t society think it odd we married in such haste?”

She looked him in the eye. “Let me make one thing clear. I do not give a fig for what society thinks. If you supposed you were marrying a social butterfly, let me banish that notion right now.”

He smiled at her. “Harry said you were sensible, but this surprises me. I’m happy to agree to a short engagement.” He stepped closer, towering over her. “The sooner I can make you mine, the better.”

Her heart pounded and her breath caught as he lowered his head and touched his lips to hers for but a second before backing away. She drew in a deep breath. Her first kiss and it had been over almost before it was begun. She didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed.

“Shall we go inside and discuss the wedding plans with your parents?”

“Not yet. There is something else I’d like to say.” It was now or never.

“Yes, my dear, what is it?”

She licked her lips then plunged ahead. “I know how these things work. Arranged marriages, that is. I won’t expect fidelity from you.”

His shocked expression surprised her. “Is that what you think, Lydia? That I’m marrying you with the intention of cheating on you?”

“Perhaps not now,” she said. “But in a few years… It’s not as if ours is a love match. I won’t cut up a fuss if you decide to take a mistress. As long as you are discreet.”

“How very... sophisticated of you,” he said, his tone dry enough to parch a desert.

She took a deep breath before continuing. “And once I’ve produced the requisite heir and spare, I assume I’ll be free to seek my pleasure elsewhere.”

The thunderous look on his face startled her and she stepped back.

“You will do no such thing,” he said fiercely, reaching for her.

“Ours may not be a love match now, but I fully intend to see it turns into one.”

With that, he pulled her into his embrace, trapping her arms between them as his encircled her shoulders and waist.

Covering her mouth with his, he kissed her with a heady combination of passion and anger. Her resistance crumbled in the face of his onslaught. She clutched at his lapels and returned his kiss, even parting her lips when his tongue probed them. Overwhelmed by the sensations his lips provoked, she let her eyes drift shut as she clung to him.

When he let her go, he was still visibly upset. “There will be no more talk of infidelity. Have I made myself clear, Lydia?”

Happy reading!

Lyndi Lamont

http://www.lyndilamont.com/blog

https://twitter.com/LyndiLamont

Manless in Montclair -- Gratis!

Who says you can't get something for nothing? Check out this free read, for a limited time!

Manless in Montclair

by Amy Holman Edelman

Link: http://www.amazon.com/Manless-in-Montclair-ebook/dp/B00AI2FNV6/

Free days: 8-10 January

Chick lit/women's fiction/romance

Blurb: 

Being short with big boobs means living life off-balance. Isabel knows this all too well; at five feet nothing with a tendency to tip over in heels, she's struggled for twenty-five years to make clothes, careers and boyfriends fit. Enter Michael. Divorced father, recovering alcoholic and fifteen years her senior--he was the last guy she thought would make the cut. But when he proposed over a pastrami sandwich in a NYC deli on the anniversary of their first date, Isabel knew, improbably, that he was the one.

Fifteen mostly happy years and two kids later, Isabel walks into her living room to discover her husband dead on the floor, leaving her a widow at forty-one. At Micheal's funeral, a guest solemnly informs her that the official mourning period for a Jewish widow is thirty days. At the moment, Isabel can't imagine a time when she will stop grieving. Not helping the process is this: as a single mom living in the very married suburbs, for the first time in fifteen years Isabel once again just doesn't fit in.

It takes her four year-old daughter's request for a new daddy to set Isabel on a journey through online dating, shifty matchmakers and painfully orchestrated single dinners. But after endless dates, a torrid affair with an unemployed, passive-aggressive neighbor and a story on page three of the New York Daily News, Isabel begins to realize that another man may not be the answer and, surprisingly, that's when things begin to change for the better...

Excerpt:

Our blue and white paisley duvet lay crumpled on the bed, but Michael was no longer under it. The air conditioner beckoned me with a loud rumble, and I stood in front of it for a moment, letting the stale breeze cool my skin. Sufficiently chilled, I turned and walked back down the hall into the heavier air of our living room. It was then that I saw him, lying at the foot of the green overstuffed chair, a few inches away from his favorite perch on the well-worn, beige linen sofa. Except for the small pool of blood that had formed on the rug beside his head, he looked as if he might still be sleeping.

I ran past Michael to the far end of the room, my heart beating hard in my throat. I rummaged through the papers and notebooks that covered my desk in search of the portable phone. Finding it, I dialed 911. After what felt like enough time to grow old in, a dispassionate voice finally came on to the line.

“I think my husband is dead,” I said, shaking. There was no thought. Just words and sweat and panic. “What should I do?”

Bio: 

Amy Holman Edelman lives in New Jersey with her husband, children and Irish Jack Russell, Roxy.  She is the also author of The Little Black Dress ('97).

Writing Challenge: The Fireman and the Cat

As part of Lori L. Clark’s “Let’s Write in 2013” challenge, she’s offering a 250-word prompt a day in January. Here’s my first response to the first New Year’s Day prompt.

Prompt: "An old saying takes on new meaning when a woman sees, literally, 'what the cat dragged in.'"

The Fireman and the Cat 

Usually Fred dragged in a half-dead bird, mouse or other such goody as evidence of his prowess and as a “gift” for his owner Janna, but she thanked the heavens when he arrived with a hunky – and single – fireman.

The ringing of the doorbell woke Janna. Hair sticking up from a wild, mostly sleepless night spent worrying, and clad in her leopard-print pajamas, she stumbled to the front door.

Without thinking, she yanked open the door, and there on the other side of the screen stood said savior with a guilty-looking Fred in his arms.

“Meeeeyooow.”

“Is this yours?” he held the cat out, as if he was more than happy to get rid of the offender. Fred’s pink rhinestone collar and tag dangled on his neck.

“Oh, yes, thank you so much.” She took Fred, stroking his silky fur, and nuzzling his neck before placing him in the house. “I’ve been looking for him. Where did you find him?”

“In my backyard,” he said. “I live behind you, and he likes to visit my female cat.”

He let his statement hang in the air, and gave her a once-over, taking in her pink fuzzy slippers to her low-cut top sans bra. A chill hit her, and her nipples hardened. His eyes widened, and he averted his gaze.

“Well, sorry to wake you. I’ll let you know if kittens arrive.”

“Oh, you don’t think?”

“Well, they got a bit frisky…” He smiled, then, his blue eyes lighting up.

“Oh, no. Can I invite you inside for coffee?”

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