Sunday, March 22, 2015

Spotlight: Desiring Death by C.P. Mandara


Title: Desiring Death
Author: C.P. Mandara 
Series: Evading Death (Book 1)
Genre: Paranormal/Vampire/Erotica
Publisher: Chimera Books UK
Release Date: Jan 22 2015
Number of Pages: 154
Word Count: 62,000
Edition/Format Available In: eBook

Blurb/Synopsis:

Violetta is an executioner… of vampires. Famed for her fiery beauty and mesmerising personality, she has never failed an assignment. 

Monsieur Martinet is no ordinary vampire, though. He is a master at his craft and can control humans with the merest flick of his eyelids. The vampire huntress with the porcelain skin and flaming red hair has killed all of his brethren, without exception. He now seeks the ultimate revenge: her submission in HIS bed. 

If he’s allowed to stay alive long enough, that is.



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Christina (C.P.) Mandara was born in the UK, but has spent most of her life travelling the world. She speaks three languages and has been chiefly employed in the fields of finance and travel. Her favourite city is Sydney and her favourite holiday destination is the south of France.

She loves keeping fit and enjoys running, cycling and water sports. No, not those kinds of water sports; think surfing or sailing. That doesn’t mean that she doesn’t enjoy BDSM in all of its glorious forms, be that pony girls, bondage, edge play, orgasm denial or a damn good spanking. Her favourite item in the toy closet (a box simply isn’t big enough) is her riding crop.

In her spare time she’s usually cuddled up with a good book, exploring the countryside or baking in the kitchen. In fact, she loves her kitchen so much she’s one of few woman who wouldn’t mind being tied to it! Her first and foremost love is writing, however, and more often than not you’ll find her on a laptop spinning tales of romance, erotica or dark, paranormal fantasies.



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Blog {Blissful Blog}




Twitter {@naughtynell101}
Twitter {@cpmandara


Other Works by C.P. Mandara

 

Pony Tales Series







Evading Death Series



Desiring Death (1)
 

Excerpt 

‘Drop that pretty little glass vial you’ve got hidden away in your right hand on the floor, now.’

That the voice and arm belonged to Martinet was not in question. He injected the words into her ear with such rancour that she wondered if he’d kill her there and then. A few seconds of terrorised silence passed. His grip tightened around her neck. Gurgling in protest, her hand stubbornly clutched the precious little bottle even more tightly because it might be the only lifeline she had left.

‘You’re a tenacious little chit, aren’t you?’ He growled as he shook her body forcibly. ‘Do you really want me to employ ‘other’ tactics?

She burbled insensibly as he began to cut off her air supply but she didn’t drop her precious cargo. If he was going to kill her, then it would be better if it were sooner rather than later.

‘You surprise me, Miss…’ He let the sentence hang in mid-air and Violetta felt him give her a push to answer it. She held on to the words that threatened to erupt from her lips, even though it was a hard won battle.

He frowned. ‘I’ll stamp that wilfulness out of your body, Violetta. Mark my words. All you are doing is waving a bright red banner saying ‘spank me’ in front of my face and the outcome for your arse, delectable though it may be, isn’t looking good.’ Sarcasm dripped off his tongue.
While Violetta did not respond to his words, she did stop struggling. The intelligent part of her brain said that the action was worthless, for his strength more than quadrupled hers. Feeling her hands shake around the smooth glass vial and a bead of sweat drip down her neck, she wondered why he didn’t just pluck the offending item from her fingers and smash it against the wall. He was more than capable of such a feat

‘Ah, but where would be the fun in that? It’s much more amusing to watch you do my dirty work for me and the more painful and unpalatable you find my ideas, the better.’ His arm softened around her neck, but she did not feel in the slightest bit relieved. ‘Last chance, Vi. Drop the bottle.’ Her spine stiffened at the use of her nickname, which had previously been reserved for friends, but her backbone did not waver. She would not drop her little present. He would have to take it from her. Smiling darkly at the thought, she imagined throwing the contents of the tiny tube all over his body and watching as his skin blistered and burned.

‘Oh, I think not, precious,’ he purred into her ear and with his free hand, he ran his fingers through the tempting, glossy red waves of her hair. Without warning his fist closed around a handful of her locks and yanked it tightly downwards. Her head flew back sharply and her eyes immediately connected with two bright blue orbs that had danger written all over them.

‘Your face looks so much better when it’s immersed in pain. Not quite so smug now, are we?’ His breath tickled her ear, as his hand purchased an even tighter grip on her hair. The ends that were buried into her scalp began protesting at the cruel treatment. ‘Drop it. Now.’

Violetta’s head stung furiously as he forcibly tried to wrench several follicles out at once, but still she retained her tight grip on the bottle. ‘What’s to stop me from flicking the cork stopper out of this bottle and throwing the contents all over you?’ She asked the question in a saccharine-sweet voice, laced with irony. They both knew he would not take the bottle from her. It was far too risky.

Sighing, Martinet released her hair and the impressive grip he had maintained around her neck, before walking backwards a couple of steps. She waited for something to happen, but the whole world had gone silent and the only thing she could hear was the sound of her strained breathing and a heartbeat that felt like it had just witnessed a murder. On the plus side, she guessed that he had released his hold on her. Turning around slowly, she watched his steely gaze bearing down upon her. Her internal organs began to liquefy.

‘Afraid, Violetta? What’s stopping you?’ He took another casual step back and lifted his arms in the air, as if urging her to do her worst. If that was the way he wanted to play things, so be it. Her thumb flicked at the cork stopper that held the precious water inside. Whilst there was probably only twenty centilitres of water held inside the small tube’s confines, it would be enough. With a little hiss, the cork popped free and there she was, holding her escape ticket, just a few scant inches away from her prey. All she needed to do was throw it. A quick flick of the wrist and her nightmare of an evening would be over. She would watch him writhe and roll around the floor in the throes of agony and not feel the slightest bit of remorse knowing that she had delivered his last steps upon the planet earth. He was a monster that needed to be stopped. She was a trained huntress. She had been primed for this moment for the last ten years of her life. It was time to put that training to good use. She thrust the contents of the vial at him.
 
 




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