Tuesday, May 6, 2014

SERAFINA AND THE PSYCHO SOUS-CHEF by Marie Treanor

SERAFINA AND THE PSYCHO SOUS-CHEF by Marie Treanor

Serafina's Book 4

A lust more addictive than spirits...

Whisky-swilling vampire Phil has his own reasons for returning to Edinburgh. They don't include rescuing beautiful amnesiac damsels in distress, and yet one night after escaping from an old enemy, that's exactly what he does. At first his motive is curiosity because of Linnie's apparent connection to his enemy, but once he involves his old drinking companion Blair, who comes these days with a gaggle of wacky humans from Serafina's Psychic Investigations, everything gets out of hand.

While hunting his old enemy, Phil gets side-tracked into helping psychic human Sera in her bizarre cases involving a missing child, a designer drug for Holywood celebrities, and a psychotic chef who heals her victims - maybe. But he has mysteries of his own to solve - is Linnie's amnesia real, and if so, how did she lose her memory? Who is she? Why does her blood taste so much more delicious than anyone else's? And why has she interested the reclusive Founder?

For Linnie, since her accident, every day is one of self-discovery. One of the few things she does know, is to fear vampires. Especially the fun, sexy Phil, who melts her bones and shows her all the excitement she secretly craves.

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Excerpt:

“Give it a rest, Phil,” she snapped. “Even my people pretend eternal love in order to get what they want. I don’t buy yours either.”

Aengus, she thought stunned, as both name and handsome, careless face rolled into the front of her mind. The first man who’d lied his way into her knickers—as Sera would put it…

“I’m not selling eternal love,” Phil said. “It doesn’t have to be forever to be good, to be exciting, memorable, sweet.” His telepathic murmur sank through her whole body, provoking a sexual response that only made her angrier. “I thought you wanted to live? Isn’t that why you came here?”

Furiously, she tried to elbow him in the ribs. “To give my all to an abomination?” she raged, and kicked out at him, connecting forcefully with his shin. “Absolutely not!”

“I don’t want all of you.” He stopped and hooked his leg around hers, stilling her lashing feet. “Just your blood and your body. Your soul, you keep.”

She didn’t know why she was so angry. Mostly, it wasn’t even aimed at him, but at the stuff rushing back into her mind; stuff she didn’t recognise and didn’t want to. It was all wrong. More than that, she didn’t want it to be true.

She knew she was losing her footing and hung on grimly to his fingers to make sure he fell with her. At the same time, she lashed out with her free hand.

It never touched him. Even as she lost her balance, she found herself not falling but soaring as he leapt through the air with her held in both arms. The wind whipped her hair back, whistled past her ears. There was a jolt as if he’d landed, but she was aware of no more than his powerful arms at her back, his hard body fitted so close into hers that they might have been naked.

Dizzy, she could see only dark sky, the odd distant twinkle and scudding silver swirls of cloud, blotted out by the vampire’s wicked angel face, his intense eyes like impossibly burning ice. And then the world went black, and there was only his mouth on hers, wild and hard and demanding.

She reached up to claw and scratch and hurt, grabbing handfuls of his soft hair between her fingers as he opened her mouth and took her kiss before she even knew she was giving it. An inarticulate moan escaped her, half fury, half helpless want. But she wasn’t helpless. She never had been.

Her fingers closed in his hair, on his scalp, not to hurt now, but to caress. Her mouth opened wide under his. She sucked his tongue greedily, stroking it with hers. His wicked fangs grazed her lips, and she licked and sucked those too.

“Bastard. Total, total bastard,” she whispered incoherently between kisses. They were standing on the ridge of a tenement building, no doubt silhouetted against the sky for anyone who cared to look far enough up. The knowledge made her even dizzier, and she didn’t care about that either.

“Because I want you?” he asked in her head.

“Because you know I want you.”

His lips smiled on hers. His leg moved, caressing her thigh. Without warning, her foot slipped, and she was falling. There was a thud as she landed on top of him, but they both kept sliding down the slope of the roof. Phil didn’t even stop kissing her, and when she tried to break free, if only to save herself some broken bones, he simply rolled her until it was her back pressed into the cold, hard slates, and, abruptly, their descent ended with his weight holding her under him on the sloping roof.

One of his legs was rigid, as if his foot hooked into the guttering or some other hold between slates. She gasped, trying to speak under his mouth.

But he was speaking inside her head. “This is what you want. Danger, risk, love in all its forms. You want to feel.”

Almost involuntarily, she pushed upward into him, gasping for breath, for more. He dragged his mouth over her lips to her jaw and downward to the throat as if inhaling her, tasting every inch of skin. His hair tickled her chin, his lips caressed the length of her neck and closed. His tongue flickered over her skin, her vein, surely, and then his teeth grazed the same path. Sensation swam outward from his mouth until every nerve in her body seemed to sing. She twisted her head around in pleasure, and as if that was the invitation he’d been waiting for, he bit.

She cried out, though not with pain. If there was any, it got lost in fierce, urgent pleasure as his mouth moved on the oversensitised skin of her throat, caressing, sucking. His whole body shuddered on hers. His silent groan vibrated right through her; it sounded like agony, like impossible, unendurable pleasure. Ye gods, yes, that was exactly what it was. Her blood rushed through her veins and arteries, triggering all sorts of pleasure points she hadn’t known she possessed. The vampire drank her in, making love to her vein, to her, and Linnie surrendered utterly.

Sunlight and joy seemed to bombard her mind. Is that you? she wondered with awe.

“Oh yes, that’s me. Sweet Jesus, Linnie…”

Vaguely, she was aware of his urgent hand working between their bodies. She didn’t mind. She wanted him everywhere. A chill blasted her hip, her thigh, as if she were naked. But it wasn’t until he tugged her jeans down over her thigh that she realised what he was about. She tried to speak without knowing what it was she wanted to say. Shockingly cool fingers thrust, bathed in the heat between her barely parted legs, and then something wider, blunter nudged her, pushed, invaded. So big, so cold, so overwhelmingly…necessary.


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