TITLE – DreamZ, The Approach & Reunion and coming soon - Teamwork
SERIES – The Wunder Series (Volume 1)
AUTHOR – A.R. Von
GENRE – Paranormal romance/zombie-lit
PUBLICATION DATE – August 2014
PUBLISHER – Dream Z Dragons Publishing
COVER ARTIST – Wicked Muse
BOOK SYNOPSIS (for Wunder Volume One)
SPECIAL EXTENDED EDITION
(Contains DreamZ, The Approach, Reunion AND bonus material)
Wunder isn’t your average girl in fact—she isn’t even an average human. In a world ravaged by Zombies, she was born amidst the chaos. She may have a normal life now…well as normal as a freak of nature could have. Part zombie while her job is to hunt bloodthirsty creatures to protect the innocent. It’s the dreams that haunt her and they aren’t nightmares. Wunder dreams of a man, a man made just for her. Is he real, can he be the one she‘s yearned for?
Wunder’s life has been far from perfect so far, secretly being part Zombie in a world devastated by the plague of the walking dead. Still, she knew there was something special awaiting her, someone out there who could change everything and she did find him. Pete is everything she dreamed of and more as she discovers passion and fulfillment for the first time in her life.
Pete has his own secrets to tell. His world is a lonely one as he wrestles with the reality of being part zombie. His hatred for the creatures that killed his parents drives him to patrol the streets and wipe them all out. His life would be stark, but for the dreams he’s been having; of a woman, so sensuous, so sexy. These alluring visions have become erotic and consuming. He feels as if he made her up to keep from going crazy. Is this life of hunting the walking dead, all there is? Or is she out there waiting—just for him?
Now—with the reunion; Wunder’s life turns into a journey of discoveries. Secrets from the past come full circle and her world is changed forever. In the coming chaos, can she keep her new found happiness and the man of her dreams?
Why? Why the torture? Each and every single night since I became a woman I awaken sweating, panting, hot and bothered from the pure sexual torture. Many times with my hand rubbing my most intimate place. A dream, so many dreams. Each one is different, but all contain the same faceless dark haired stranger.
“UGH!”
The only things I know for sure is he is tall, has raven black hair, the same color as mine, but much shorter. He has the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen. Glowing eyes that seem to be able to see into my soul. My heart’s deepest desires and he always grants them to me without pause. It was strange at first, seeing him and yet not. Not being able to make out his facial features, except for his eyes. I got used to it throughout the years, I guess. One thing I DO know, is the way he makes me feel, always!
So much passion, heat and desire. He makes me feel beautiful, irreplaceable and wanted in a way, I imagine, every woman wants to feel.
Frustration at its finest. This latest dream seemed more realistic than all of the others. I still feel the ripples on my skin from his touch; the most intimate touch I’ve ever experienced, the only touch from a male I’ve had in such a manner. The goose bumps are just starting to go away. His caress is always so sensual and arousing. My mouth is still dry from all of the panting I’ve done, my panties are drenched and my heart is still pounding.
No words could ever describe my desire to meet this man of my dreams. That is—if he truly does exist. I’m going to be 25 years old and have zero sexual experience. I’d give anything to feel even a portion of what I’ve felt during these amazingly satisfying yet torturous dreams. Anything!
When I finally do get out of bed and stroll towards the bathroom, the floors feel extra cold on my overheated feet. “Definitely starting off with a cold shower.” I turn on the water full blast cold, toss my sleep shirt and panties in the hamper and brace for the shock of cold water against my flesh. “ACK!” Holy crap does it sting. But hey, it works. My body no longer feels the intense heat of arousal, just the residual tingles left after the orgasm, still lingering along my body. I fully submerge after adding some hot water to the mix, when I hear banging on the bathroom door. I jump slightly and slip a bit, almost landing flat on my ass. Luckily, I have fast reflexes and right myself quickly.
He sighs, moving his mouth towards my ear, flicking his tongue out softly and caressing my lobe. I shudder in response feeling flutters low in my belly. “I don’t know if I can wait any longer to have you. I need to taste you—feel you.” Oh my, did my panties just get wet? “Yes!” I say with a heavenly sigh. “Please,” I answer as if he’s offering food while I’ve been starving for days. He uses his tongue superbly to lick all the way down along the column of my throat.
Sensuously, he places precise kisses all the way back up, until he hovers over my lips, looking hungrily into my eyes. “I’m going to kiss you now, Wunder. Then, I’m going to take you and make you mine. If you don’t want that? Now, would be the time to tell me.” I’m swaying on my feet, gazing into his eyes—at a loss for words.
Finally, I find my voice. “Please.” He takes my mouth with such fervor, my heart pounds harder than after I’ve just run for miles. My legs now feel like over cooked noodles. He holds me tighter, exploring every nook and cranny of my mouth and I answer with the same exploration. He’s making silent promises, grinding his hard length, against my body. I bravely slide my hand from around his neck, down between us, past his chest to cup him through his tight jeans. He groans into my mouth and slowly pulls back to gaze at me questionably. My eyes are still at half-mast, drooping as if they would close on their own accord. I give his jean encased cock a firm squeeze, ‘Yes’ in answer to his question. He takes my hand, tugging it as he moves toward the back of the club. I go willingly. Oh—how I go willingly!
I fall into a slow jog beside Pete, heading the opposite way we came in. I have no idea where we are or where we’re going, so I figure it’s best to find out…“Where are we going?”
“Right now, we’re going to try and intercept whatever is coming this way. The vibe is growing stronger in this direction. Do you think you can handle it?”
“Of course I can. You should know better than to ask me that. But won’t I be seen in here. Won’t you and dad get—hold on a sec. We don’t even know what it is!”
“Trust me Wunder, I know this place like the back of my hand even after only a few months and I also have the cameras handled. No one will see us as long as we stay away from the research sector right now. That’s where they keep most of the infected and do all the tests for cures and such. I didn’t dare touch those cameras. I don’t need to. I only blocked out the ones closest to us. There’s a lot more cameras where we’re headed though. Give me a sec.” He points a finger to his temple, gives me a small smile, then he takes a deep breath and seems to briefly lose focus. His eyes give a quick flash of a green eerie glow.
Just like mine do when my emotions are out of whack. I’m fucking confused! What the hell is going on? More damn questions and no time to ask them. Figures, I have the best of luck with everything, don’t I?
Their first time as a trio. The team of Tank, Wunder and Pete will face their greatest challenge when they come up against RIP subject number 776, the deadliest Zombie yet. He's unpredictable , smart, full of cunning and has yet to be found.
While they fight for their lives, the heat between Pete and Wunder will blaze out of control.
They will discover powers within themselves brought on by being part zombie. Powers beyond even their wildest imagination.
EXCERPT
I had my eyes squeezed closed as I screamed bloody murder. My father ran straight over to me telling me to continue to keep my eyes closed. Of course I didn’t listen. I stood there and watch as he grabbed the infected’s hair, carefully removed the bastard’s teeth from my arm and stuck the dagger straight through his head via the fucker’s ear. The sounds were sickly. I dreamt of that night for years. I was a bit haunted by it, but also fascinated. It was then I decided I did not want a mellow life or job. I wanted to be just like my Dad. A kick ass soldier of good. Well that’s what I thought of him then, so it’s what I went with. I don’t think I was ever far off. These infected are not good news in any way, shape or form and my father, as well as the others he worked with. Fought the bad guys, killed them and helped to slow down the spread of the infection in the area. He, and the others, are heroes in my eyes. Always were and always will be.
Once the infected proved truly dead on the spot, my dad freaked out. He thought he was going to lose me. But he was wrong…
A.R. was born and raised in Bronx, NY and is the oldest daughter of two girls. She holds an Associate's Degree in Computer Science and Information Technology, which was only briefly used. She's a mother of two entertaining teen boys (as well as a lovely fawn Chihuahua, whom she considers her furry daughter.) She's also a wife to a delightfully handsome and amazingly funny man-beast. She loves anything dragon and fantasy related. In her free time she enjoys exercising, listening to music, hiking, cooking, dancing and writing. She also loves a great adventure in and out of a book!
She writes to free her mind of its constant wondering and clutter. She thrives on the fact she can share some of it with readers that have the same passion for a great story.
She also loves to hear from her reader's and chat away, so feel free to reach out to her any time.
What are they? Well, they’re the walking dead, duh! Seriously though, the zombies (aka the infected) in Wunder have been terrorizing the planet for over 30 years. They are gruesome, strong, and much faster than the average zombie you see on television. They are also a lot smarter. They know how to trap their prey and the best way to get them down for the kill. They crave protein due to its ability to strengthen their muscles and improve their physical condition. So, when they attack their prey (humans), they start off with consuming whatever blood they can get and work their way deep, to get to the marrow of their prey’s bones.
The origin of the contagion is not yet known, but it is under constant investigation. Some say it is alien based, something that was brought to the planet by other worldly beings with hopes all humans would die and the aliens would take over, live and flourish as if we were never here. That’s not yet been proven.
Others say, that it was created as a biochemical weapon from one of Russia’s or Korea’s mad scientists that are out for destruction of anywhere but their country, so they can have all control. But those theories are… Just theories, nuff said.
One thing we do know for sure is Wunder is a rarity. How many people do you know that can actually say they are part zombie? Exactly! NONE.
She now fights alongside some others, to help all that are terrorized by the infected to stay alive and uninfected. She doesn’t see them as kin or anything of the like. She sees them as enemies, targets, needing to just be…gone. And that’s what she’s trained to do for a majority of her life. Taught by her 100% human father and his comrades. Kill or be killed!
Angela Martin is chief detective for the Moose Creek, N.C.,
police department, when a possible murder call comes in. At the scene she finds
the body of a woman, hanging from hands bound overhead, eyes blindfolded, mouth
gagged. Red whip marks crisscross the woman’s buttocks, the back of her legs.
She recognizes the scene, knows exactly what happened to the woman before she
died, because Det. Angela Martin was bound and blindfolded, gagged and whipped
exactly as this woman had been. By a man she met on line.
A killer.
A master whose power over her is so strong she’s willing to
risk everything – her career, even her life – to be with him again.
LETHAL OBSESSION is a novel of desire and domination,
suspicion and fear, and the mysterious way those emotions mingle into an
inescapable pull, one that might cost Angela her life.
Excerpt:
“Are you ready?”
His voice was still soft, emotionless.
“Yes,” she whispered.
Angela looked around the hotel room. It was a basic,
cheap room – particle board dresser, large TV on top, a small desk next to it.
In the space behind the door was an area designated as the closet. Her clothes
hung there. She had locked her gun and ID inside the car, hidden away. On the
nightstand sat her work phone – the one that would signal their time together
must end if it buzzed.
She glanced back to the mirror over the dresser. Staring
back was a person she recognized – physically, that is. It also might just have
well been a stranger. She wore a red chemise. The front plunged so low that her
breasts nearly spilled out. It was so short barely any of her legs were
covered. Underneath she wore nothing.
“Door unlocked?”
“Yes.”
“Kneel.”
Angela went to her knees.
“Blindfold yourself.”
Angela placed the phone on the floor, next to her,
covered her eyes with the scarf, tied it securely behind her head. She felt for
the phone, put it back to her ear.
“Done.”
“Excuse me?”
“Sorry, done, Mr. Tanner.”
“Now the handcuffs.”
“Mr. Tanner, I cannot…will not be able to pick up the
phone to let you know I’ve done that.”
“Just do it. I’ll be there when I decide you’ve had
enough time.”
Angela put the phone down, felt for the handcuffs – she
had purchased separate ones for use with Mr. Tanner, not wanting to risk even
the slightest chance using department-issued ones could lead back to what she
was doing. She snapped the cuffs around her left wrist, put her hands behind
her back, paused for a few seconds, and then snapped the other cuff around her
right wrist.
Oh god.
That was the only thought that formed, mingling with fear
and a burning, almost primal sense of anticipation.
Angela wondered what she would look like to Tanner. She
was kneeling, but not up on her knees. Instead, her legs were folded under her,
her butt resting on her heels. She wasn’t sure if that’s how he meant for her
to be, or if she should rise up on her knees, as she did in church as a little
girl.
She waited, tiny trembles shaking her body every so often.
How long? It seemed as if she had been there seven, eight, maybe even ten
minutes, but Angela knew the time was probably much less. Waiting, in the dark,
helpless, with a probable killer coming to have his way with her, time seemed
to stretch and slow down.
I shouldn’t be here.
The thought stabbed through the haze of desire and
mystery and fear, like the sudden emergence of a traffic light in a thick fog.
I need to get out.
Just as her body was about to respond to the thought, to
rise up from her kneeling position, she felt lips press against her left thigh;
fingers play lightly along her right one.
Oh my god.
She had heard nothing – Tanner, apparently, excelled at
stealth as well as he did at understanding how to control her body, her
feelings and emotions.
“Please?”
Please what? Please go on? Please take me? Please release me?
“Mr. Tann—”
Fingers pressed against her lips. Not hard, but firmly,
enough to silence her.
As quickly as they had pressed against her mouth they
were gone, then she felt them again…both of his hands, on her thighs, playing
up and down her legs, massaging, caressing, his lips like feather touches
across her chest, kissing, tongue licking, playing along her mostly exposed
breasts…
About
Shandra Miller
Shandra is a mid-western gal who left home at 16 and never
looked back. Eventually she made her way to Florida, worked for three years as
a carnie and another three with a circus -- yes, a real, live, honest-to-god
circus. Traveled all through the South and Mid-Atlantic, town to town, on the
road eight months at a time.
Now she’s a small-town office girl, filing papers, making
coffee, and dreaming of being free. She doesn’t own a cell phone or a TV, she
takes long walks at night, lies in the grass in the day time and watches the
clouds go by, and she writes erotica and mystery. Blazing hot erotica, and
mystery tales dripping with lust, sex and suspense.
LETHAL OBSESSION is her debut novel. Her short stories
PRIVATE DINING and ROOM SERVICE, both part of the TIDES INN EROTIC TALES
series; and JENNIFER LOST and JENNIFER BOUND (part of the Ville D'Esclavage
TALES) are all available on Amazon.com.
“It’s
a cross between Lord of the Rings and the Wizard of OZ where you will be swept
away into a magical land of Dwarves, Elves, and Halflings.”
—Brae Wyckoff
Voted #1 BEST
fantasy book under the radar!
Voted #1 Best
Christian Sci-Fi/Fantasy Book!
Voted #1 Best
Indie Fantasy Book!
Synopsis:
In the hundreds of years since the Holy City
disappeared, darkness has fallen over the land. Human kingdoms have seized
control of the realm, scattering the other races into hiding.
Bridazak, a skilled thief, and his friends, a Dwarf
and a fellow Ordakian, have dared to remain within the human communities and
live relatively quiet lives, until they discover a mysterious, magical
artifact. The three friends are thrust into an adventure that will challenge
their faith, their purpose, and their destiny as they chase a forgotten and
lost prophecy across the realm of Ruauck-El, where they hope to discover the
origins of the strange item and their place in its history.
An ancient, unknown enemy threatens the completion
of their journey at every turn. Bridazak is about to face the biggest adventure
of his life, one that may change the known realm, and answer the questions he
has carried all his life. Will they unlock the truth?
Chapter 5: Lonely Tear
Dulgin went off to
settle things with the stable caretaker and then they walked into the Lady Luck
Inn. The stone building was a two-story structure with a thatched roof and
double paned windows. It was very plain outside; a simple sign dangled above
the entryway. Inside was much the same; nothing adorned the walls, and a few
small tables were set around a fireplace where sparkling embers faded. There
stood a small registry station to the left of them, but no one was present. All
was quiet, like the town. A dim light from behind the counter in a back room
mingled with the darkness of the main lobby. They tried to peek over the
human-sized wooden counter to see where the innkeeper might be. They had hoped
their entrance had alerted someone, but not a soul stirred from the back room.
“There is no one
here, late night travelers,” said a creaky, unknown voice from behind them near
the fireplace. “Come, sit by the fire while you wait for the innkeeper,” the
midget voice spoke again.
The fire suddenly
erupted, illuminating the lodge enough to see more clearly. In the light, they
recognized that the small creature was a Deep Gnome, an underground race with
wood-brown skin, pure white hair, gray-blue eyes, and a plump nose, pitted and
almost three inches in length. Smaller than the Ordakians, he was only three
feet tall. He wore earth-toned clothing, leather boots adorned with strange
writings, shiny gold bracers around its arms, and a small, thin, dark brown
cape that was slung over his left shoulder.
The Deep Gnome glared at them with a cocky confidence.
“Who are you?”
Bridazak asked suspiciously.
“My name is Mudd, but
you can call me Aloysius Davadander Ashenkoombi, for short.”
The Dwarf and Daks
looked at each other, bewildered and confused.
“I don't like him,”
whispered Dulgin.
“And I don't care,”
the mysterious Gnome grinned, apparently hearing the Dwarf's comment from
across the room.
“What do you want?”
asked Bridazak.
“I wanted to see with
my own eyes the ones that are causing so much grief.”
“Grief with whom?”
Dulgin questioned as he took a step forward.
“Yes, an interesting
question indeed,” he sighed, “You have no idea what is happening, do you?”
“No, we don't. But we would appreciate some answers,” chimed
Bridazak as he moved into the sitting room and sat on the end of one of the
benches. His friends followed, but did not sit.
“Things are changing
rapidly--things that no one can stop. You, Bridazak, have awakened the destiny
of this realm. The prophecy has been unleashed. I have seen much over my
thousand years, and have found that men of all races are springs without water
and mists driven by a storm. The blackest darkness is reserved for most, but
for what they were not told, they will see, and what they have not heard, they
will understand.” Mudd narrowed his eye
slits while staring intently toward Bridazak.
“Since you know who I
am, are you the one Ember spoke of?” asked the Ordakian.
“Not even close, but
interesting that you should mention her name. She told you of him, didn't she?
Now I see that she has granted you protection, for what it is worth,” Mudd
pointed at the medallion around Bridazak's neck.
“What is it worth?”
Spilf’s interest piqued at the thought of getting a few more coins in their
purses.
“Worthless to those
it was not given to, and no help in preventing me from locating you. What
matters now is the time of the prophecy. It has called out for centuries, but
none have heard, until now. I will give you a word of advice before I depart.
Keep moving, because as I found you, so can others. You can stay in my room, if
you dare, and the key I leave behind opens more than one door.” The mysterious
gnome became blurry and slowly transformed into a ghostly image. He produced a
soft aura as he rose from the chair and hovered.
“The creatures of
this world never cease to amaze me. We will see if you are one of them.” Mudd
flew up higher and then soared down toward the group. They ducked and watched
the apparition as he plummeted into the roaring fire. A burst of flame erupted,
and then reduced to its original dying embers. Spilf noticed a glint of gold,
and upon inspection, discovered a golden key on the chair where Mudd sat.
Bridazak sighed as he
put his hands over his face. “What have I gotten us into?”
(To read more of this chapter, head over to
Amazon to get your copy today)
Brae
Wyckoff was born and raised in San Diego, CA and is working toward a Psychology
degree. He has been married to his beautiful wife, Jill, for 20 years, and they
have three children; Tommy, Michelle, and Brittany. He has a beautiful grandson
named Avery. Brae has been an avid gamer since 1985. His passion for mysterious
realms and the supernatural inspired him to write The Orb of Truth, the first in
a series of fantasy action adventures. Brae describes The Orb of Truth as a cross between the Lord of the Rings and the Wizard of OZ
where you will be swept away into a magical land of Dwarves, Elves, and
Halflings.
• Title: The Nightlife New York (Book #1 in The Nightlife Series)
• Author: Travis Luedke
• Release Date: August 18, 2012
• Genre:Paranormal, Adult Romance
Synopsis ::
Vampires, strippers, escorts, night clubs, gangs, pimps and corrupt cops, the Nightlife of New York is never boring.
Is she a beautiful blond guardian angel as he imagined, or something else entirely? When Michelle saves Aaron's life she shares the benefits of her blood (after getting him shot accidentally). He awakes a changed man, living in a purgatory of eternal night, never to see the sunrise again.
Michelle drags Aaron through a hardcore learning curve of vampiric slavery. Forced to adapt to servitude, Aaron is subject to her authority of compulsion. She orders him around like a puppet on a string, a dog on a very short leash. First things first, he must learn to feed properly without creating bloodslaves (humans addicted to the powerful drug-like effect of their venomous bite).
And then she puts him to work-a male escort in the sex trade-same as Michelle. Aaron walks a tightrope of strictly controlled feeding regiments and intensely erotic sexual adventures while catering to the neurotic control-freak tendencies of his new master. It's do or die, Michelle vows to eliminate him if he proves too difficult to control. The real kicker-amidst all these shocking and degrading adjustments, Aaron finds he's falling in love.
Can he maintain and keep a sliver of his humanity intact? Innocence is a luxury few can afford in the decadent nightlife of New York. In a world where sex, blood, and power over women is so readily accessible, Aaron struggles against the predatory instincts deeply rooted in his new psyche. He must find his way quickly, practicing rigid self-control, or risk the consequences of Michelle's wrath.
Excerpt from THE NIGHTLIFE NEW YORK:
Aaron burned, outraged at the audacity of the grotesque, fat, ugly bulldog of a man assaulting the blond goddess. An involuntary cry tore from his throat, “Hey! Leave her alone! Get your hands off her!” He couldn't believe either of these crude creatures would dare lay hands on the beautiful blond vision of perfection who spoke in an intoxicating stream of French obscenities.
Never ceasing her tirade of lovely French filth, the blond struck at the bulldog in a blur. In one swift move, she broke his hold on her wrist and clawed his face, leaving a trail of bloody slash marks across his left cheek. Without pause she instantly pivoted and punched Barney Fife in the nose with a gratifying crunch sound, and a backward head snap. A splat of blood flew through the air. She pivoted a split-second later to face the bulldog with a Taser in hand, magically snatched from Barney Fife after breaking his nose. The combat unfolded before Aaron's eyes like a scene from a martial arts film. The heroine had the appearance of moving with super human velocity. By comparison to her whip-like actions, the detectives seemed to be in slow motion.
Aaron's jaw dropped. He stood in complete awe of the scene taking place before him. He had difficulty accepting these bizarre events for reality. As the shimmery cocktail dressed wonder woman fired her stolen Taser, Aaron recognized the bulldog was not truly as slow as he had seemed. He had a pistol drawn and moving upward in a sweeping arc.
Aaron's dream state shattered along with his heretofore unremarkable and short life when the Taser struck the bulldog at precisely the point when his gun sights aligned with Aaron. The electric shock of the Taser began a domino effect. All muscles and tendons in the bulldog’s body clenched, including his trigger finger. The sharp crack of the gun resulted in a slug passing through Aaron's chest and out his back, knocking him to the ground with the impact.
The pain came seconds later, delayed. When it hit it was all-consuming, overpowering. Nothing existed beyond the horrible agony of his body torn to shreds by the wicked projectile. He wasn't brave or manly or noble like all these scenes of bullet wounds from Hollywood films. He screamed and howled like a baby, and promptly blacked out from the overwhelming agony.
* * * *
SMACK, SMACK, SMACK. Aaron felt someone smack him three times. He beheld an angel with a halo of light around her tousled blond curls like the corona encircling the sun. She had the most succulent puffy lips and a benevolent shine of concern and compassion.
“Are you an angel?” His beautiful seraph began swearing in a stream of melodic French.
She resumed her obscenities, “C'est vraiment des conneries!” The words seeped in slowly, sparking a memory from French class––this was bullshit. Are angels supposed to curse?
He was so tired, cold, numb. Is this what it feels like to die? He drifted back into unconsciousness content in the belief that heavenly hosts carried him off to a better place.
Vampires, Aaron Pilan and his master Michelle, live by one rule -- no bloodslaves. EVER. Aaron breaks that rule when he meets Anastasia. All Anastasia wants is to be loved and cherished, but the predatory men she’s attracted to bring her only pain and abuse. Escaping one train-wreck relationship for another, she finds happiness with Aaron and Michelle as a bloodslave, a 'pet'. When Aaron uses his telepathy to win thousands at the gambling tables, he attracts the deadly attention of the Colombian Cartel and Aaron and Michelle are 'disappeared'. Addicted to the bite of her vampire lovers, Ana is desperate to find them. But, Las Vegas isn't ready for vampires mixing heroin, sex and vengeance. Ana is trapped in the spiraling chaos.
Find out what happens in the second novel of the Nightlife Series.
★★★★★ "Go grab a copy before this much fun is declared illegal."
★★★★★ "Mr. Luedke once again showcasing his considerable talent for crafting erotic, action-packed, supernatural thrillers that leave the reader saying "Wow!"
★★★★★ "A no-holds-barred, easy-to-read romp that mixes fantasy, suspense, horror and erotica, and does it well."
Excerpt from THE NIGHTLIFE LAS VEGAS:
They say what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, but what the hell do they know? Twenty-two year old Aaron Pilan could testify from experience that significant gambling losses––or winnings––definitely follow you home.
After three weeks of hitting the gaming tables, he was practiced at the fine art of gambling. He knew the truth behind the veil of glamour. As P.T. Barnum said, “There's a fool born every minute.” Many a fool arrived in Vegas with a wad of hard earned cash fantasizing about winning big and coming home to boast of the thousands they reeled in during their brief stint as a high roller.
He joined the foolish masses in their desire to hit it big. He fully intended to beat the odds and walk away from the gaming tables, winnings intact. It looked damn good for him at the moment. Of course, being an exceptionally gifted telepath afforded him a decidedly unfair advantage –– definitely contributed to his good luck.
Another caveat to the Vegas rule would be murder. An untimely death by strangulation definitely puts a kink in the high roller status. Aaron read his opponent Alexander Demarco’s mind as the man contemplated this very thing. Poor Demarco had been suffering the systematic and thorough fleecing of his poker chips. He was a very unhappy man.
* * * *
Demarco envisioned a number of ways to kill Aaron Pilan, starting with the quick and dirty double-tap bullet to the back of the head. Upon further consideration, that seemed almost too merciful, too quick and easy. He graduated to fantasies of Aaron begging and pleading for his life out in the Vegas desert. He imagined Aaron hog-tied at the bottom of a six-foot pit as the dirt hit his face while being buried alive. Demarco had personal experience with both methods of murder.
He finally settled on a slightly more violent alternative. Strangulation would be the most satisfying method of killing the punk. He imagined the strength of his own hands wrapped solidly around Aaron’s throat, squeezing out his life as he flailed about feebly. God I wish I could do it right now. He had always preferred the ‘hands on’ approach.
I know that son-of-a-bitch is cheating somehow. His gut instincts were rarely wrong in these matters. The punk always knows exactly when to fold and when to call, he’s impossible to bluff. He could smell a con from the end of the room. No way could Aaron clean him out so consistently by pure chance.
His intuition was sharply honed from the years he spent hustling on the streets of west Humble Park Chicago, between Grand and Arlington, smack dab in the center of Latin Kings territory. He bore his gangland battlefield scars proudly, a soldier displaying badges of merit. The dog-eat-dog survival-of-the-fittest lifestyle was second nature. He couldn’t enter a building without staring down every person in sight and watching all the exits.
This punk can’t weigh more than a hundred sixty pounds. I could take him any day of the week. He sized up Aaron, measuring him against his own two hundred ten pounds of lean muscle and six foot frame of a professional athlete. Why am I lettin this white devil bitch run the show? I wonder if he’s a Fed? Maybe this is a setup. He had an overwhelming feeling he was being taken for a ride. He much preferred being the one doing the taking.
By sheer luck and opportunity he’d been one of the select few who escaped the Federal Racketeering indictment leveled against the Chicago Latin Kings when he moved to Vegas in 2004, a year before the indictment was issued. Everything changed when he setup operations in Vegas. He graduated from small time movements of heroin and cocaine by the gram to major deliveries measured in kilos. His buddies back in Chicago became the end consumer. Long gone were the days of pushing dime baggies out on the street. Now he sold wholesale, fat transactions with sweet profit margins and far less risk of being snitched out by a punk ass junky popped off for banging a gram in a public bathroom.
And here he was a high roller, a shot caller, a badass, punked-out for thousands of dollars by a pinche gringo white devil with a smug smile. He scowled at the pair of fives in his hand and continued fantasizing about murdering Aaron.
* * * *
Aaron was well aware of Demarco's malicious intents. He read all the sordid details in his mind as he raised the pot, smiling at Demarco all the while. He knew his pair of kings would win the hand unless the last card pulled a surprise. Not having learned his lesson yet, Demarco foolishly called his bet and slid another stack of chips forward on the table.
When the dealer laid out a queen, Demarco's losses tallied up to $26,000. More than enough to justify murder. Demarco had once beaten a man to death over a thousand dollars' worth of cocaine on the streets of Chicago. He now had twenty-six reasons to kill Aaron.
When his hand won again, Aaron knew it was time to leave the table. He bid everyone a good night, collected his winnings, and winked at Demarco. It was the wink that finally did it. Demarco literally saw red. The color of everything around him turned a violent shade of pinkish red as his blood pressure skyrocketed, hitting his temples in a pounding throb. The white devil had given him a migraine. He folded his hand and sat there fuming.
Aaron walked away tens of thousands richer. Worse, a drop dead gorgeous blond wrapped herself around the white devil as if she would bang him right there.
“You left them with their pants?”
“Yes love. Shirts. The phrase is ‘lose your shirt’. I feel merciful tonight. They’re still fully dressed.” Aaron caressed Michelle’s face as she cuddled with him, aligning her curves to all his sharp angles.
Demarco’s mind broadcast clearly as he watched Michelle holding Aaron intimately. Demarco seethed with a rare combination of envy and hatred. In his opinion, a woman like that deserved a real man, not some arrogant young prick. Back in the ghettos of Chicago, Aaron was what they called soft.
He glanced over his shoulder at Demarco with a look. It was not a soft look. In this one instance Demarco's instincts were dead wrong. He was young, but not soft. Not by anyone’s definition of the word.
He scanned Demarco's mind one last time before walking away. Green-eyed jealousy consumed his every thought. They always want what they can’t have. Aaron had become accustomed to this reaction. He and Michelle were a strikingly attractive pair. He knew onlookers considered his dark haired, dark eyed, five foot eleven frame of model caliber, but Michelle was a whole different level of attractive. If not for her petite five-foot two, she could have been a world famous runway model. Her lazy golden curls framed flawless pale skin and vibrant green eyes. Her shapely hourglass curves could win international beauty and swimsuit contests.
• Title: Blood Slave (Book #3 in the series, but considered a stand alone novel)
• Author: Travis Luedke
• Release Date: December 23, 2012
• Genre:Paranormal Erotic, Adult Romance
Synopsis ::
Her mother named her Esperanza de Salvador - Hope for Salvation. But when a girl works as an escort for Colombian cartel in the ghettos of Spanish Harlem, there wasn’t much hope, or salvation.
Hope’s telepathic ability keeps her a step ahead of ruin, but her unusual gift attracts the attention of a psychotic vampire bitch. Trapped in a Manhattan penthouse with the psycho, she thought she was dead meat.
Her survival lies in the hands of Vampire Master Enrique. He seems to respect her, perhaps even care. As a measure of protection, he makes her his personal Bloodslave. Helplessly addicted to his bite, Enrique rules her every moment. As always, Hope must adapt to survive.
Swept into the decadent nightlife of Manhattan's elite, she falls in love with Enrique and prays someday he may grow to love her, too. But is it simply a relationship of convenience? Is she nothing more than a concubine desperate to satisfy his nightly demands for blood and sex?
And forever in the background is the fear that one day the cartel boss she abandoned will hunt her down to collect on old debts.
Excerpt from BLOOD SLAVE:
I awoke in the afternoon alone in bed. I could still smell him on the sheets. Like the fool I am, I thought he’d be there. Wake up sex can be awesome, but I rarely if ever have someone there when I wake up. And it usually isn’t someone I really want there.
A dining cart awaited me with pizza, bottled water, a couple cans of Ensure protein shakes, and a note. The pungent aroma of the chicken pesto pizza had me ravenous. I inhaled two pieces as I read Enrique’s little love note:
Dear Hope:
Please eat and drink as much as you can. You will be anemic constantly. You must take very good care of your health. The Ensure supplement will help. There will be plasma and blood transfusions available soon, you will probably need them. Take the sublingual strip Suboxone to hold off withdrawals until we meet again after sunset around 7:15 p.m. The Suboxone goes under your tongue.
I apologize for your situation. I hope we can find a way to work through this and become friends.
Love
Enrique
Okay … Suboxone. Some of the guys at the Towers mentioned it once. It helps fight off heroin withdrawals. One guy said it gave a slight buzz, but nothing like heroin. I have never and will never try heroin. I’ve seen what addicts look like, it’s really fucked up.
So why would he give me Suboxone?
And why wait till seven? Three hours from now. I didn’t want to wait for him. I wanted him here now. Right now! I wanted him to bite me again right now!
“Son of a bitch! He got me with that fucking bite. That’s what he’s been talking about. He’s got me hyped on his bite! Fucking vampires!”
I had a craving, a need, an unscratchable itch for Enrique. Three more hours to go.
* * * *
I was bouncing off the walls by 5:30 p.m.. The Suboxone helped get rid of my headache, and I had a decent buzz going. None of that solved the craving I had for Enrique, or more specifically his bite. A warm bath didn’t help, the three cans of Ensure didn’t help, nor did the half bottle of chardonnay, although it kicked up my buzz nicely.
By 7:16 p.m., I was ready to strip the floral print wallpaper off with my nails. Every part of my body ached for Enrique. I don’t mean pain, I mean need, desire, angst. By 7:17 p.m. I kicked at the locked door, front kicks and sidekicks. I took a few steps back to do a jumping side kick when he opened the door with the most infuriatingly calm comment on his lips.
“Did you miss me?”
I screamed and launched forward. “You son of a bitch!”
He caught me right out of the air in a graceful embrace, absorbing all my impact in his iron hard arms. Before I could react, he bit me fast and hard, right in the neck, robbing me of all sense and reason. Anger, hatred, need, frustration, all obliterated in the blast of sweet, sweet euphoria so intense it brought tears to my eyes. He carried me to the bed as I convulsed with orgasms, still held in the leech’s embrace as if he cared for me. It’s a good thing I didn’t have any underwear on beneath my bathrobe, I would’ve had to change them. My inner thighs were soaked by the time he let up.
I hated and loved him. I wanted to kill him, fuck him, and kiss him, all at the same time. What a mess. Hate won the toss up as the strongest sentiment of the moment.
“I hate you.” I spoke in a quiver, breathless from his bite.
“I expected as much. It’s regrettable, but under the circumstances you left me no choice.” He sighed.
“That’s all you have to say? What did you do to me?”
“I know this seems bad. I understand you’re upset, and rightfully so. I apologize, but it was necessary.”
“What do you mean?”
“I had to assure your loyalty. I had to bind you to me. There was no other way.”
“What do you mean bind? How am I bound? I can’t read your mind! You have to tell me what you’ve done to me. Why do I want to be with you all the time? Why do I need you to bite me?”
“I understand. It must be upsetting you can’t get in here.” He tapped his finger on his skull. “The only name for your condition I have ever known is an archaic terminology I learned from my master over a century ago. He called them ‘Bloodslaves’. I think it’s an inappropriate title. I have no intention of making you a slave.”
“If I’m not a slave then why don’t you let me go home?” I whined.
“Querida, you know too much. It was bad enough you knew of our existence. Then Lia brought you here. She is a constant strain on my patience. If she had let you be, the situation would’ve diffused itself. I imagine you considered her an eccentric. As it stands now, I can’t let you go. To be truthful, your particular talents are intriguing. I’m beginning to like the idea of having you around.”
He had me crying by then. I couldn’t go home, ever. He’d never let me go. Hating him for my captivity, I still felt this inexplicable desire to touch him, coerce him into biting me again. The bastard had me hooked like a damn heroin junky! As I stood there with tears streaming down my face, the son of a bitch hugged me.
It didn’t seem real. Like a bad dream I couldn’t wake up from. He had to let me go home.
“What if I promised I would never say a word to anyone? Who would believe me? This is all so crazy! I can’t hurt you or expose you in any way! I’m an illegal immigrant! I can’t call the police or any other government agency! Your secret’s safe with me! I don’t care who or what you are, or where you live. I just want to go home!” I begged him shamelessly. “I don’t want to be a bloodslave! And I can’t stand it here. Your mind is locked up solid. You could be lying to me! I don’t know anything about you!”
“Shush, Shush, Shush. It does no good to lament. What’s done is done. Querida ... you are bound to me. The bond cannot be broken. Surely you’ve noticed the connection between us, the way you need me?”
“OH MY GOD! You did this to me on purpose!”
“Though I’m not proud of it, I’ll not lie. Yes ... I did this.”
“Oh God, I’m a slave!”
“That’s not really correct. I’ve no need to stoop to such degradation. I respect you. Enough drama – let’s look at some of the positives here.”
“What’s positive?”
“I know this seems bad, and it is, but there are some benefits to this life. Come with me.”
I followed him reluctantly into the luxurious bathroom attached to my bedroom prison cell. The nicest bed/bath combo I’d ever stayed in. If I could come and go at will it would be perfect.
We stood before the mirror. “Do you notice anything different about yourself?”
I looked in my eyes. I had a post orgasm flush, anger and frustration evident on my face. My eyes were wet from crying. Nothing seemed different from the person in the mirror an hour ago when I’d taken a bath.
“What’s supposed to be different?”
I took him seriously, a new sense of fear bloomed in my gut. What had he done to me? Was I changed? Was I like him now? I opened my mouth to inspect my teeth, looking for the tell-tale fangs. Nada. Nothing changed that I could see.
Enrique snorted laughter. I elbowed him in the ribs. My temper flared up. This was my life he laughed at! The asshole felt so damn solid, like hitting a piece of wood.
He had a twinkle in his eye. “Look at your face. Do you see any bruises or black eyes?”
The bastard hadn’t even flinched when I hit him, he was impervious. He stared at me expectantly with a faintly amused expression. I looked in the mirror again. I scowled, not a very attractive look for me overall. No bruises, no black eyes, not a mark on me from yesterday’s scuffle. My elbows didn’t have any raw spots from when I’d hit the floor. The bite marks that should have been on my neck were nowhere to be found.
I again asked the question, “What did you do to me?” My voice filled with fear and awe.
“There are some pleasant advantages of repeated exposure to our bite. With each bite a small amount of venom is released into your system. This causes the euphoria. Our venom is quite beneficial over time. You’ll heal much more quickly. Your immune system will improve, a higher resistance to communicable diseases. And you’ll age more slowly than the average person. You could live to be well over a hundred. How old are you? Twenty-four? Twenty-five?”
In shock from his words, it took me a few seconds to answer. “Twenty-two”
“Oh ... well you seemed a bit older. So very young to have lived through so much. It’s to your advantage. You’ll look as you do for many years to come. A good situation for someone so young, to enjoy youth for a few extra years.
“How old are you?”
“Very old.”
“You don’t look a day over thirty five.”
“Why thank you.”
The bastard had calmed me down. I chatted with him like old friends. He was so damn easy to talk to. Attractive, intelligent, kind, beautiful hazel eyes staring at me without blinking. Damn. I was falling under his spell. And why tell me all this? The more he revealed the more dangerous I became to him. He’d never let me go now, I knew too much. Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! And still he stared at me with those beautiful unblinking eyes.
“I thought vampires were immortal, what’s all this hundred years shit? I could live that long just by being careful.”
“We live very long lives indeed, several hundred years or more. But you’re not a vampire.”
“Oh I get it. I’m just here for you to bite and fuck. I’m just food – a bloodslave.”
“Calmate querida. Vulgarity is so unattractive coming from such a beautiful woman. Listen to me carefully. You are not a slave. You’re my guest, permanently. That’s how you’ll be treated, that’s how it is.”
“A guest who can never leave the bedroom. That’s the same thing as a slave.”
“No more strife. Let’s get you some clothing, a few amenities. Lia has provided clothes temporarily. Get ready and I’ll return for you shortly.”
“We’re leaving? I actually get to leave the bedroom? Where are we going?”
“Yes, with me of course. I’m not letting you out of my sight. I’m taking you shopping as a gesture of goodwill. Isn’t that what all women want to do in Manhattan?”
Travis Luedke is a husband, father, and author of Urban Fantasy thriller, Paranormal Romance, Contemporary Fantasy, Young Adult Fiction, and Sci-fi. He is currently catching a 3rd degree sunburn in San Antonio, Texas, and loving every minute of it. His recent works include "The Nightlife New York", "The Nightlife Las Vegas" and "BLOOD SLAVE" the first novels in the Nightlife Series.
