#WIPWednsday Tease

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Gold spilled over the tables skirting the gleaming marble floor of the immaculate ballroom. Mirrors reflected each other like tangible echos on either side, giving the illusion of endless space, glimmering light and people. The very room was designed to be a criminal’s best friend and an operative’s worst nightmare. There were at least two skilled pickpockets working the crowd, but humans behaving badly were not Aviana’s concern.

Their gracious hostess, Madame Fervaunte, was the biggest con of them all, at any rate. But with her help, the gala had been set up to lure a far more dangerous threat to the Parisian elite. A Succubus who’d been picking off the wealthiest and most entangled, which made the task of covering up the crimes a strain, even for the GSI.

Hence, Aviana and Stephan’s assignment. Her partner had been in France for months, living his backstory, carefully laying the delicate gossamer layers, until no one saw him for anyone other than Lord André Beauchene, a young aristocratic from Nice. Avi was playing his French-American girlfriend, Claire Dubois, on holiday from university. In reality, she’d been on another assignment in Moscow.

The plan was simple: confirm the target was on site, then spring a trap they couldn’t possibly resist. Easy, in theory. They just had to keep the night flowing in their favor. Seated across from their clever and witty hostess, both Avi and Stephan were attuned to everything happening around them. It helped that they were able to use their own supernatural senses to remain alert, rather than relying on their eyes. That’s how Aviana caught her first whiff of mud. A bitter, damp and almost decaying aroma that couldn’t be disguised with an entire vat of Chanel. She honed in on the smell, following it over the room’s occupants, then silently alerted Stephan to a beautiful brunette laughing and flirting with a minor viscount in the far corner of the dance floor. It was time. The faster they put their plan into motion, the faster they could stop the viscount’s naivety from becoming fatal.

“Madame,” Stephan politely interrupted their hostess, as he began rising from his chair.

The woman gasped and abruptly looked past him, her entire face lighting up with pleasant surprise. Aviana completely lost the Succubus’s scent, at that precise moment. Her senses taken hostage by the familiar, heady fragrances of morning dew on grass, fertile earth and windswept mountains. She nearly forgot herself and closed her eyes, as it overpowered everything else, flowing right into her like a jet stream. Purposeful. Driven. Demanding.

The room fell into a murmur of awe, people captured by whoever filled the entrance and Aviana didn’t even have to look to know. The only reason she did, was to not give herself away. Then her gaze was trapped by the reddish-brown irises of the one she thought she’d escaped. It was surreal to see him standing there, looking a thousand times deadlier in a damn skirt than he had in jeans and a t-shirt. His red, black and white tartan was complimented by the short, formal jacket of black with its big silver buttons. The decorative, fur lined sporran hanging from his hips boasted a large, snarling wolf head in more silver. It was arrogantly intimidating. A symbol of pride for his people that, like the living wolves beside him, the human guests couldn’t possibly see as anything more than eccentric, yet Avi found it ridiculously sexy.

“Caden McCuine MacSweyn,” the usher announced without a single waver, despite the giant wolf that brushed against his leg. “High Chief of Skye Clan Revan, Laird of Uig.”

No! Stunned, Avi didn’t dare share a glance with Stephan, but she had to wonder if he’d just connected the same dots. If that really was the Caden McCuine–Alpha of the UK packs–then their entire operation was in shambles. Because, if their target found viscounts tasty, she certainly wasn’t going to pass up on a king!

#WIP Untitled (The Úlfrinn series)
©A.C. Melody

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WISTFUL

 Stars aloft

Stars alight

I wish all day

I dream all night

To kill that bastard

Oh, delight!

To kill him dead, just for spite.

⚔️ ~

Originally posted February 14, 2014

Was that my ode to Valentines day? Your guess is as good as mine, I can barely recall my motives from five minutes ago, let alone 3 years. LOL However, anyone who’s ever attempted to play Alice: Madness Returns can surely feel my homicidal pain. I still haven’t beaten that game!

#WednesdayWIP Tease

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#WIP Violet Night (The Úlfrinn Series, Book 3)

In an armchair facing her from the foot of the bed, Odin’s wolf slumbered in the shadows. His feet were propped on the end of the mattress, his inked hands laced over his stomach, which was now shrouded in a black thermal. Sleeves were shoved up strong forearms, turning more ink into something three-dimensional and dangerous. It was only a small portion of the tattoos she knew covered his entire chest and arms. More crawled up both sides of his neck from the unbuttoned gap at his throat. With caution, she pushed the blankets aside and crept closer. She didn’t want to wake him, but now that Max had squashed her fears, she definitely wanted to study him.

Her curiosity was nothing compared to her awe. He was so riveting in silence. As if even sleep couldn’t dilute his virility, weaken the power that stemmed from a darkness she could feel pulsing within him. There was a permanent scowl between his brows, giving him the look of a man deep in thought, rather than resting. Again, she caught herself marveling over how decorated a Warrior he was.

Her eyes locked onto the dark gray hoop that perfectly divided his bottom lip. The equally dark stud pierced into the flesh directly below it. Black studs in the shape of stars were nestled into the delicious hollows of his cheeks. There was something altogether sensual in the design of his piercings, the single barbell through the tapered end of his brow. The bits of black and silver randomly placed along the curves of his ears and the larger, disk-shaped studs against his lobes all seemed so…arrogantly sexy.

When his lashes swept upward, revealing those breathtaking eyes of royal violet, Cressa felt the lust simmering in her veins stir and spread. He was quite simply the most magnetizing man she’d ever seen, and she’d been alive for a very long time.

“I didn’t mean to wake you, wolf.”

“I wasn’t sleeping, Night,” he returned.

Cressa felt her lips curve, before the pleasure even registered in her brain. She couldn’t allow herself to revel in his cocky defensiveness quite yet, though, there was a burning question needing answering.

“Why do you feel like Asgard?”

His stare was intense, but not unkind. Cressa had been stared at unkindly before, she knew the difference.

“So, we’re speaking now?”

The guilt was mild, and possibly only felt because of the surprise appearance of hesitant hope in his eyes. “I apologize for that,” she said. “I had my reasons.”

“Your brother explained,” he dismissed. “Are you feeling better now? Were the Elders able to help?”

“I think so,” she nodded, touched by the sincere concern in his tone. “My mind is much clearer.”

“Good.” he smiled, but there was something quite determined behind it. “Shayd.”

“Sorry?”

“My name, Cressa, is Shayd Eklund,” he stated firmly, claiming his victory at last. “Not wolf.”

©A.C. Melody

Love this #WIP tease? Check out the rest of the series starting with Hearthstone Alpha and Little Queen!

Avarice Collection 🔥 Blog Tour

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Title: Avarice Collection (Hell on Earth 1-3)
Author: A.C. Melody
Genre: Dark Erotic/BDSM/Paranormal

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COVER

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SYNOPSIS

Devils Only.
It was a permanent note-to-self right above her panties, because anything less was a disappointment. She never meant it as an invitation…

Avarice is what makes the world go round, and Kameo Kross never cared to be an exception to the rule. Her sole ambition is to avoid joining the ranks of New York’s poorest denizens. Between a bastard of a new boss and a Dom who tempts her darkest, depraved needs, Kami reevaluates her goal for sanity’s sake. She doesn’t fear pain, death or eternal damnation, but the idea of submitting completely has her itching to run.

Unforgiving, destiny’s twisted plot thrusts Kami into a world she’d never feared existed, and the crosshairs of an enemy threatening to expose all of her shameful secrets to the media. As her life is completely altered, good versus evil becomes a matter all too personal. Yet, nothing’s more difficult than facing the truths of her heart, and finding the courage to embrace the kind of submission she’s always longed for.

Unleashed in a hailstorm of fury, Hell will come for those seeking glory from Kami’s missteps and she’ll face off with the Devil, himself, to get what she’s finally accepted as hers to have: Happiness. As the calendar races toward Beltane, sordid plots of single-minded obsession and greed continue to thwart their eternal bliss, but the real challenge awaits in the aftermath of retribution. Can Kami and her Master find some semblance of redemption in one another at last, or will the demon within change everything?

Trigger/Content Warning: This collection is Dark, BDSM Paranormal Romance, all references to devils in the blurb are sincere. Possible triggers include but are not limited to demonology, violence, R.A.C.K. (Risk Awareness Consensual Kink), graphic sex and explicit language. Not intended for readers under the age of 18.

PURCHASE (1)

Amazon US
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Amazon CA
Amazon AU
Paperback

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EXCERPT

His wet fingers abandoned the inside of her throat, cupping the curve of her jaw, and his mouth crushed down on hers.

It was a whole new kind of oral sex. That was the only way to describe the aggressive, needy assault. His tongue thrust as his lips dominated hers harder and greedier, like there was some kind of climax waiting for him at the end. A preview of his skills, or a promise that it would be the only way he would invade her body, no matter which part of himself he was using? Regardless, it was ferocious, filthy, and the best damn kiss Kami had ever experienced.

She could feel his mask bumping alongside her temple, as if he’d turned the bull snout to the side, but that meant his face was still mostly covered. He must not trust the blindfolds. Did that mean he wasn’t planning on removing the mask at all? Kami hoped not. She wanted him to keep it on. That way her imagination could continue filling in the blanks the way she wanted them, rather than chance being disappointed by reality. She didn’t care how damn shallow that made her. This was her night, and it was already panning out better than any Halloween before it, so no. She didn’t want anything to ruin it.

“Mmm, you taste foolishly brave,” he groaned quietly as he licked and nibbled at her lips, diving back in for one last devastating kiss.

Settling back in the seat, he returned the mask to its rightful place and forced her down onto her knees again. His thumb picked up its previous stroking over her lips, but when her bound wrists slid down the hard plane of his stomach and into his lap, there was no mistaking the bulging line of his erection. The feel of it had her lust spreading hotter, dampening her panties with desperate anticipation.

She earned a soft mocking laugh when she started rubbing her arms over the steely line.

“You like knowing what you do to my cock, demon? How hard you make it just by choking on my fingers?” he asked. “Is that what you were hoping to accomplish while you were dancing for me?”

If he was trying to embarrass her with that insight, he was going to be disappointed. Knowing he knew, that he’d been aware, only turned her on more.

“No, but it’s a start,” she replied.

He laughed appreciatively at that, and it was far more sinister than his mocking laugh.

“Ambition and Greed go hand-and-hand, little one. As you said, it’s a start.”

He wanted her to be greedy? He probably shouldn’t have told her that. Before she could reply, the limo slowed to a stop, reigniting the thrill of uncertainty. When the driver opened the door, her bull man climbed out first, then reached inside and hauled her out by the waist.

Once she was on her feet, he grabbed her bound wrists and started leading her across old asphalt. Her heels clicked and wobbled in the rough patches. She thought she heard water lapping and a nearby buoy. It definitely smelled like the docks. The way the noise and voices echoed indicated they were surrounded by warehouses or giant shipping containers.

Again, it should have been a red flag, but Kami wasn’t afraid, only morbidly curious. It took her a moment to realize they were drawing closer to the pulsing bass of music. Her escort paused for a moment before a door opened and it washed over them loud and clear. They stopped directly inside to wait for everyone. When the metal door finally closed, her bull man untied the blindfold.

Blinking in the dimly lit entrance, Kami saw that it was a makeshift foyer with draping velveteen crimson, black-and-white jack-o-lanterns, Gothic candelabras, antiqued mirrors, and other décor that would indicate they were getting ready to enter a vampire’s secret lair. Even the music thumping and crawling over her flesh was more along the lines of Screamo-Goth-Rave, than the Dubstep bass would suggest.

“You know, there are at least a hundred different horror movies that begin this way,” she referred to the space around them by drawing a small square in the air with her index fingers.

A more difficult task than one would think with bound wrists.

“That’s what makes decorating so easy,” he said, pulling her against his body to slip a hand under her skirt and take his fill of her ass cheek. “The question is, was that just an observation or cold feet?”

“My feet never get cold,” she replied.

She barely heard the low rumble of his laugh when he bowed his head right beside her ear. “Careful, demon. Some might take that answer as a deliberate challenge.”

It was a seduction, his mind. The things he picked out of the air, as if her thoughts were broadcasting on wavelengths he could read like a digital marquee. Things that no other man on the planet had ever been able to hear between the lines of her responses before.

“You’re free to take it however you like,” she pointed out, but it wasn’t flippant.

No, it was more like poking the growling lion with a sharp stick just to see what would happen.

“I don’t need you to tell me that, demon. I always take what I want, however I want, whenever I want,” he stated, before lowering his voice even more. “I don’t wait for holidays.”

AUTHOR BIO

A.C. Melody is a hybrid author of Erotic Romance and all its savory sub-genres. Confessed javaholic, introverted geeky girl with a twisted sense of humor and a wretched muse. She has a weakness for hard ass Alphas and the strong women who capture their hearts, without damaging their rough edges.

A lifetime lover of fairytales, myths, legends and ancient pantheons, A.C. spends more time researching than writing. Her biggest goal is to provide new, captivating angles on old, favorite tales with enticing twists and characters that redefine preset expectations.

She’s 100% guilty of placing all her money on the underdogs, anti-heroes and shameless whores. A.C. loves to hear from her readers and can be found at any of the following sites:

STALK LINKS

Blog
Facebook
Twitter
Instagram
Goodreads
Amazon Author Page

 

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Avarice Collection 🔥 Release Day Blitz!

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Title: Avarice Collection (Hell on Earth 1-3)
Author: A.C. Melody
Genre: Dark Erotic/BDSM/Paranormal

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Devils Only.
It was a permanent note-to-self right above her panties, because anything less was a disappointment. She never meant it as an invitation…

Avarice is what makes the world go round, and Kameo Kross never cared to be an exception to the rule. Her sole ambition is to avoid joining the ranks of New York’s poorest denizens. Between a bastard of a new boss and a Dom who tempts her darkest, depraved needs, Kami reevaluates her goal for sanity’s sake. She doesn’t fear pain, death or eternal damnation, but the idea of submitting completely has her itching to run.

Unforgiving, destiny’s twisted plot thrusts Kami into a world she’d never feared existed, and the crosshairs of an enemy threatening to expose all of her shameful secrets to the media. As her life is completely altered, good versus evil becomes a matter all too personal. Yet, nothing’s more difficult than facing the truths of her heart, and finding the courage to embrace the kind of submission she’s always longed for.

Unleashed in a hailstorm of fury, Hell will come for those seeking glory from Kami’s missteps and she’ll face off with the Devil, himself, to get what she’s finally accepted as hers to have: Happiness. As the calendar races toward Beltane, sordid plots of single-minded obsession and greed continue to thwart their eternal bliss, but the real challenge awaits in the aftermath of retribution. Can Kami and her Master find some semblance of redemption in one another at last, or will the demon within change everything?

Trigger/Content Warning: This collection is Dark, BDSM Paranormal Romance, all references to devils in the blurb are sincere. Possible triggers include but are not limited to demonology, violence, R.A.C.K. (Risk Awareness Consensual Kink), graphic sex and explicit language. Not intended for readers under the age of 18.

PURCHASE

Today is the LAST DAY to get the entire Avarice Collection eBook for only 99¢!

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Paperback

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ec4a1-excerpt

His wet fingers abandoned the inside of her throat, cupping the curve of her jaw, and his mouth crushed down on hers.

It was a whole new kind of oral sex. That was the only way to describe the aggressive, needy assault. His tongue thrust as his lips dominated hers harder and greedier, like there was some kind of climax waiting for him at the end. A preview of his skills, or a promise that it would be the only way he would invade her body, no matter which part of himself he was using? Regardless, it was ferocious, filthy, and the best damn kiss Kami had ever experienced.

She could feel his mask bumping alongside her temple, as if he’d turned the bull snout to the side, but that meant his face was still mostly covered. He must not trust the blindfolds. Did that mean he wasn’t planning on removing the mask at all? Kami hoped not. She wanted him to keep it on. That way her imagination could continue filling in the blanks the way she wanted them, rather than chance being disappointed by reality. She didn’t care how damn shallow that made her. This was her night, and it was already panning out better than any Halloween before it, so no. She didn’t want anything to ruin it.

“Mmm, you taste foolishly brave,” he groaned quietly as he licked and nibbled at her lips, diving back in for one last devastating kiss.

Settling back in the seat, he returned the mask to its rightful place and forced her down onto her knees again. His thumb picked up its previous stroking over her lips, but when her bound wrists slid down the hard plane of his stomach and into his lap, there was no mistaking the bulging line of his erection. The feel of it had her lust spreading hotter, dampening her panties with desperate anticipation.

She earned a soft mocking laugh when she started rubbing her arms over the steely line.

“You like knowing what you do to my cock, demon? How hard you make it just by choking on my fingers?” he asked. “Is that what you were hoping to accomplish while you were dancing for me?”

If he was trying to embarrass her with that insight, he was going to be disappointed. Knowing he knew, that he’d been aware, only turned her on more.

“No, but it’s a start,” she replied.

He laughed appreciatively at that, and it was far more sinister than his mocking laugh.

“Ambition and Greed go hand-and-hand, little one. As you said, it’s a start.”

He wanted her to be greedy? He probably shouldn’t have told her that. Before she could reply, the limo slowed to a stop, reigniting the thrill of uncertainty. When the driver opened the door, her bull man climbed out first, then reached inside and hauled her out by the waist.

Once she was on her feet, he grabbed her bound wrists and started leading her across old asphalt. Her heels clicked and wobbled in the rough patches. She thought she heard water lapping and a nearby buoy. It definitely smelled like the docks. The way the noise and voices echoed indicated they were surrounded by warehouses or giant shipping containers.

Again, it should have been a red flag, but Kami wasn’t afraid, only morbidly curious. It took her a moment to realize they were drawing closer to the pulsing bass of music. Her escort paused for a moment before a door opened and it washed over them loud and clear. They stopped directly inside to wait for everyone. When the metal door finally closed, her bull man untied the blindfold.

Blinking in the dimly lit entrance, Kami saw that it was a makeshift foyer with draping velveteen crimson, black-and-white jack-o-lanterns, Gothic candelabras, antiqued mirrors, and other décor that would indicate they were getting ready to enter a vampire’s secret lair. Even the music thumping and crawling over her flesh was more along the lines of Screamo-Goth-Rave, than the Dubstep bass would suggest.

“You know, there are at least a hundred different horror movies that begin this way,” she referred to the space around them by drawing a small square in the air with her index fingers.

A more difficult task than one would think with bound wrists.

“That’s what makes decorating so easy,” he said, pulling her against his body to slip a hand under her skirt and take his fill of her ass cheek. “The question is, was that just an observation or cold feet?”

“My feet never get cold,” she replied.

She barely heard the low rumble of his laugh when he bowed his head right beside her ear. “Careful, demon. Some might take that answer as a deliberate challenge.”

It was a seduction, his mind. The things he picked out of the air, as if her thoughts were broadcasting on wavelengths he could read like a digital marquee. Things that no other man on the planet had ever been able to hear between the lines of her responses before.

“You’re free to take it however you like,” she pointed out, but it wasn’t flippant.

No, it was more like poking the growling lion with a sharp stick just to see what would happen.

“I don’t need you to tell me that, demon. I always take what I want, however I want, whenever I want,” he stated, before lowering his voice even more. “I don’t wait for holidays.”

d443b-author2bbio

A.C. Melody is a hybrid author of Erotic Romance and all its savory sub-genres. Confessed javaholic, introverted geeky girl with a twisted sense of humor and a wretched muse. She has a weakness for hard ass Alphas and the strong women who capture their hearts, without damaging their rough edges.

A lifetime lover of fairytales, myths, legends and ancient pantheons, A.C. spends more time researching than writing. Her biggest goal is to provide new, captivating angles on old, favorite tales with enticing twists and characters that redefine preset expectations.

She’s 100% guilty of placing all her money on the underdogs, anti-heroes and shameless whores. A.C. loves to hear from her readers and can be found at any of the following sites:

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Blog
Facebook
Twitter
Instagram
Goodreads
Amazon Author Page

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Avarice Collection 🔥 Cover Reveal!

MAIN BANNER
 
Title: Avarice Collection ( Hell On Earth 1-3)
Author: A.C. Melody
Genre: Dark Erotic/BDSM/Paranormal
 
 
 
 
 
 
Devils Only.
It was a permanent note-to-self right above her panties, because anything less was a disappointment. She never meant it as an invitation…

Avarice is what makes the world go round, and Kameo Kross never cared to be an exception to the rule. Her sole ambition is to avoid joining the ranks of New York’s poorest denizens. Between a bastard of a new boss and a Dom who tempts her darkest, depraved needs, Kami reevaluates her goal for sanity’s sake. She doesn’t fear pain, death or eternal damnation, but the idea of submitting completely has her itching to run.

Unforgiving, destiny’s twisted plot thrusts Kami into a world she’d never feared existed, and the crosshairs of an enemy threatening to expose all of her shameful secrets to the media. As her life is completely altered, good versus evil becomes a matter all too personal. Yet, nothing’s more difficult than facing the truths of her heart, and finding the courage to embrace the kind of submission she’s always longed for.

Unleashed in a hailstorm of fury, Hell will come for those seeking glory from Kami’s missteps and she’ll face off with the Devil, himself, to get what she’s finally accepted as hers to have: Happiness. As the calendar races toward Beltane, sordid plots of single-minded obsession and greed continue to thwart their eternal bliss, but the real challenge awaits in the aftermath of retribution. Can Kami and her Master find some semblance of redemption in one another at last, or will the demon within change everything?

Trigger/Content Warning: This collection is Dark, BDSM Paranormal Romance, all references to devils in the blurb are sincere. Possible triggers include but are not limited to demonology, violence, R.A.C.K. (Risk Awareness Consensual Kink), graphic sex and explicit language. Not intended for readers under the age of 18.
 
 
 
 
His wet fingers abandoned the inside of her throat, cupping the curve of her jaw, and his mouth crushed down on hers.
 
It was a whole new kind of oral sex. That was the only way to describe the aggressive, needy assault. His tongue thrust as his lips dominated hers harder and greedier, like there was some kind of climax waiting for him at the end. A preview of his skills, or a promise that it would be the only way he would invade her body, no matter which part of himself he was using? Regardless, it was ferocious, filthy, and the best damn kiss Kami had ever experienced.
 
She could feel his mask bumping alongside her temple, as if he’d turned the bull snout to the side, but that meant his face was still mostly covered. He must not trust the blindfolds. Did that mean he wasn’t planning on removing the mask at all? Kami hoped not. She wanted him to keep it on. That way her imagination could continue filling in the blanks the way she wanted them, rather than chance being disappointed by reality. She didn’t care how damn shallow that made her. This was her night, and it was already panning out better than any Halloween before it, so no. She didn’t want anything to ruin it.
 
“Mmm, you taste foolishly brave,” he groaned quietly as he licked and nibbled at her lips, diving back in for one last devastating kiss.
Settling back in the seat, he returned the mask to its rightful place and forced her down onto her knees again. His thumb picked up its previous stroking over her lips, but when her bound wrists slid down the hard plane of his stomach and into his lap, there was no mistaking the bulging line of his erection. The feel of it had her lust spreading hotter, dampening her panties with desperate anticipation.
 
She earned a soft mocking laugh when she started rubbing her arms over the steely line.
“You like knowing what you do to my cock, demon? How hard you make it just by choking on my fingers?” he asked. “Is that what you were hoping to accomplish while you were dancing for me?”
 
If he was trying to embarrass her with that insight, he was going to be disappointed. Knowing he knew, that he’d been aware, only turned her on more.
 
“No, but it’s a start,” she replied.
He laughed appreciatively at that, and it was far more sinister than his mocking laugh.
“Ambition and Greed go hand-and-hand, little one. As you said, it’s a start.”
 
He wanted her to be greedy? He probably shouldn’t have told her that. Before she could reply, the limo slowed to a stop, reigniting the thrill of uncertainty. When the driver opened the door, her bull man climbed out first, then reached inside and hauled her out by the waist.
 
Once she was on her feet, he grabbed her bound wrists and started leading her across old asphalt. Her heels clicked and wobbled in the rough patches. She thought she heard water lapping and a nearby buoy. It definitely smelled like the docks. The way the noise and voices echoed indicated they were surrounded by warehouses or giant shipping containers.
 
Again, it should have been a red flag, but Kami wasn’t afraid, only morbidly curious. It took her a moment to realize they were drawing closer to the pulsing bass of music. Her escort paused for a moment before a door opened and it washed over them loud and clear. They stopped directly inside to wait for everyone. When the metal door finally closed, her bull man untied the blindfold.
 
Blinking in the dimly lit entrance, Kami saw that it was a makeshift foyer with draping velveteen crimson, black-and-white jack-o-lanterns, Gothic candelabras, antiqued mirrors, and other décor that would indicate they were getting ready to enter a vampire’s secret lair. Even the music thumping and crawling over her flesh was more along the lines of Screamo-Goth-Rave, than the Dubstep bass would suggest.
 
“You know, there are at least a hundred different horror movies that begin this way,” she referred to the space around them by drawing a small square in the air with her index fingers.
A more difficult task than one would think with bound wrists.
“That’s what makes decorating so easy,” he said, pulling her against his body to slip a hand under her skirt and take his fill of her ass cheek. “The question is, was that just an observation or cold feet?”
 
“My feet never get cold,” she replied.
She barely heard the low rumble of his laugh when he bowed his head right beside her ear. “Careful, demon. Some might take that answer as a deliberate challenge.”
It was a seduction, his mind. The things he picked out of the air, as if her thoughts were broadcasting on wavelengths he could read like a digital marquee. Things that no other man on the planet had ever been able to hear between the lines of her responses before.
 
“You’re free to take it however you like,” she pointed out, but it wasn’t flippant.
No, it was more like poking the growling lion with a sharp stick just to see what would happen.
“I don’t need you to tell me that, demon. I always take what I want, however I want, whenever I want,” he stated, before lowering his voice even more. “I don’t wait for holidays.”
 
 
 
A.C. Melody is a hybrid author of Erotic Romance and all its savory sub-genres. Confessed javaholic, introverted geeky girl with a twisted sense of humor and a wretched muse. She has a weakness for hard ass Alphas and the strong women who capture their hearts, without damaging their rough edges.
 
A lifetime lover of fairytales, myths, legends and ancient pantheons, A.C. spends more time researching than writing. Her biggest goal is to provide new, captivating angles on old, favorite tales with enticing twists and characters that redefine preset expectations.
 
She’s 100% guilty of placing all her money on the underdogs, anti-heroes and shameless whores. A.C. loves to hear from her readers and can be found at any of the following sites: