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.
Author Links
Blog
{Blissful Blog}
Twitter {@naughtynell101}
Twitter {@cpmandaraOther Works by C.P. Mandara
Pony Tales Series
Hot
to Trot (3)
Named
and Shamed (4)
A
Rough Ride (5)
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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