Flesh & Blood

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Flesh & Blood
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ISBN:  1903931703
Author:  John Argus
Pages:  230
Binding:  Paperback

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'Shhh,' he cajoled, then drew her forward between a pair of waist high posts. Each had a brass ring at its top, and a thin chain attached. He drew her right arm out to one side and attached a shackle to it. Leah felt her stomach lurch and opened her mouth to protest; yet no sound emerged. She jerked her arm back, but no real conviction was behind it. And then her other wrist was shackled to the opposite post and her heart was beating like a trip hammer as he moved away to one corner, and maneuvered a tall, antique, gold embossed mirror in front of her, cocked at a slight angle. Her reflected eyes were enormous and her expression stricken. She could see the outline of her erect nipples through her thin blouse, and her cheeks began to flush as she became aware of his scrutiny.

They hunt the shadows of the night, spoken of only in rumors and whispers. Vampires: ancient and powerful, creatures of magic who hunger for flesh and blood. Detective Leah MacInnes is tough, beautiful, and thinks she's seen it all.

Girls are going missing, but Leah can hardly concentrate on the case because her new boss is a tough, cold lesbian whom she hates... and wants. So she roams the streets and clubs at night, giving herself to strange men in a desperate attempt to ease the desire gripping her body and soul.

And in the depths of darkness each night a ghostly figure takes her, punishes her, and promises her she will come to him, kneel at his feet, and call him master...
She reached to shake hands almost automatically, regretting it the instant she saw his pale hand rise to clasp hers. It was icy cold, yet large and powerful, and she gasped, feeling a strange shock run through her as they made contact. She felt her legs grow weak and sank down onto a pillowed ottoman just in front of the chair. 'I, um, I would, that is, I'm with the Los Angeles Police,' she said, her voice quivering strangely. She cleared her throat in annoyance with herself, and shook her head so that her brown hair swirled around her shoulders. 'I wonder if we could have more light, sir,' she said.
   'Why, I wonder, do people avoid the dark so?' he asked rhetorically, his voice a bass rumble with a thick Spanish accent. 'Is it that their own fears can take form in the darkness?' He reached out to switch on a lamp on the side table by his chair, and the shadows created by the soft yellow glow of the fire and the lamp now diminished enough to make out his features, yet the room was scarcely much brighter.
   He was in his mid-forties, she thought, creepily handsome, with thick, shaggy hair spilling down in loose curls around his head. He had a square face with a firm jaw and wide, full lips. His eyes were so darkly brown as to be almost black.
   'What was your name?'
   'Detective MacInnes,' she said, unaccountably nervous.
   'Your first name.'
   It occurred to tell him that should be of little concern, but being polite with potential witnesses seldom did any harm. 'Leah.'
   'Leah,' he said, rolling out the word in his deep, low voice. 'A lovely name, Leah.'
   'Thank you,' she said, producing a wan smile. 'I wonder, Mr Morales, if you are aware of the investigation into missing girls taking place. It's been somewhat in the media the last few weeks.'
   'I do not read the newspapers,' he said. 'And I have no television.'
   'Well, er, three girlsó'
   'Children?'
   'Well, no, young women.'
   'Ah,' he said, his head nodding. 'The prey in the game of life.'
   She blinked at him. 'Prey?'
   He smiled, and she felt a strange glow within her belly, which sank through her abdomen.
   'Aren't all attractive young women prey to the animal hungers of men?'
   'In a manner of speaking,' she said. 'But many would say the reverse is true, as well.'
   He chuckled throatily, and she felt a tightness in her chest. 'Young women seek a man to protect them, to support them, to father children by them. Young men seek women to conquer, to use, to satisfy their lusts, to prove their virility upon their bodies. Surely you are aware of this. You are a sexually desirable young female. You look to have a healthy body beneath those masculine clothes. Your breasts appear full and your hips well rounded.'
   She felt blood rush to her face. 'We should speak about the issue at hand, please,' she said. Yet that warm glow in her abdomen spread lower still, and she subconsciously squeezed her thighs together, feeling a moist heaviness sink into her loins.
   'I thought we were,' he said, his voice somber yet melodic. 'What do you believe has happened to these young women?'
   'That is what we are investigating,' she said.
   'But you have your suspicions,' he said softly. 'Suspicions that these young does have been brought down by some hungry wolf, their bodies a feast for his lust.'
   'This is a serious investigation, Mr Morales,' she said sternly.
   'Of course it is. The veneer of civilization is thin upon us all. We are predators, we men, and all our instincts, upon seeing an unattached female in the full bloom of her breeding season, is to bring her to her knees and mount her.'
   He leaned forward slightly and she felt her eyes caught by his, felt something within her twist and crumble. The moist heaviness in her loins began to seep outward and she felt a heat rising within her body. Her nipples tightened within the cups of her bra, and she felt a sense of confusion and disbelief at the sense of arousal growing within her.
   'I'm sure you've felt it yourself many times,' he said, his voice almost hypnotic, 'the lust of the men around you, their eyes crawling over your body, the hunger in their words as they seek to persuade you to shed your clothes and inhibitions and join them in the ancient dance of flesh.'
   'You have such an optimistic view of humanity,' she said sarcastically, fighting to keep her composure even as her heart pounded.
   He smiled again, almost tolerantly... or was it contemptuously? She felt her pulse race a little and straightened her shoulders, pushing her breasts out more firmly against the thin fabric of her blouse.
   'What, um, w-what do you do for a living, Mr Morales?' she asked, increasingly flustered.
   'I am an artist.'
   The corners of his lips turned up again, and Leah pressed the tip of her pen against her pad to help keep her hand from shaking. He reached out to the table beside him and lifted a crystal wine glass to his lips, sipping lightly. His movements were graceful and fluid, and she found herself staring in admiration as he set the glass down once again.
   'I specialize in the female form,' he said, sitting deeper in the chair. 'Nothing in life is so beautiful. No artist could create a form so perfect.'
   Leah reached up to brush aside the chestnut fringe that had spilled across her forehead. She felt very warm and glanced at the flames flickering in the fireplace to her left. Her eyes lifted to the mantle above, and a large painting of a girl. She was nude, backed against a tall post, her arms chained above her head, her back arched, perfect breasts thrust up and out. 'Y-you paint nudes,' she gasped. His lips turned up again and she felt herself melting, her sex thrumming. Confusion twisted through her mind. Why was she so aroused? What on earth was she doing? She ought to be asking...
   'I try to capture the female form in its most erotic moments,' he elaborated. 'Come, let me show you.'
   He stood up and she half stumbled to her feet, a little dazed as he took her arm and led her from the front room and down a side hall to a back room, bright with track lighting coming from above. There were no windows, which she found surprising, having heard that artists craved natural light. The room was largely unfurnished, but a number of canvases, completed and empty, were propped against the walls. An easel stood in the centre of the room and a large, almost finished painting sat upon it. It was of another naked woman, reclined on a bed, wrists bound to the posts above her head, back arching, legs spread wide, mouth open in a cry. Up and down either side of the easel were black and white snapshots, clearly the woman in the painting, all of them showing her in almost the same pose.
   'These were taken as she climaxed,' he said to her wide-eyed, questioning look.
   'Uhm, oh,' she gulped, face reddening.
   'The pleasure is unfeigned. This is the moment of glory, the moment when the skin flashes fire, when the body writhes and the world explodes within her. That is what I seek to capture on canvas.'
   'How do you know she's not faking it?' Leah asked, driven by her own alarming curiosity. He turned those dark eyes on her and smiled, and she felt her legs tremble and her stomach flutter.
   'I know,' he said assuredly.
   'But... but how could you?' she couldn't help but ask.
   'Allow me.' His fingers slipped beneath the edges of her blazer and pulled it back over her shoulders.
   'I... I don't...' she stammered, but without thinking she drew her arms back, allowing him to remove the garment.
   'Shhh,' he cajoled, then drew her forward between a pair of waist high posts. Each had a brass ring at its top, and a thin chain attached. He drew her right arm out to one side and attached a shackle to it. Leah felt her stomach lurch and opened her mouth to protest; yet no sound emerged. She jerked her arm back, but no real conviction was behind it. And then her other wrist was shackled to the opposite post and her heart was beating like a trip hammer as he moved away to one corner, and maneuvered a tall, antique, gold embossed mirror in front of her, cocked at a slight angle. Her reflected eyes were enormous and her expression stricken. She could see the outline of her erect nipples through her thin blouse, and her cheeks began to flush as she became aware of his scrutiny.
   'Y-you should... I mean, please release me,' she said, her voice trembling slightly, her arms held out to either side at waist height. The chains were slender but strong, though she'd made no real effort to pull free.
   'But of course,' he said, and moved behind her, his hands grasping hers for a moment. A shock of excitement rippled through her body and she realized she was beginning to perspire with nervous anticipation of his intentions.
   His hands slid gracefully up her arms to her shoulders, and his lips brushed the nape of her neck. Leah could not tear her eyes off the mirror as she watched his mouth drift over her throat and up to her earlobe. Her breathing was growing ragged, her breasts rising and falling rapidly as she swayed where she stood.
   'Watch,' he whispered, his voice a soft breath in her ear. His powerful hands squeezed her trim waist for a few seconds, then slid up to her front and cupped her breasts and she could not repress a gasp and a shudder of sexual excitement. Her breasts tingled and warmed within his cupped hands, and she felt her heart beginning to race. His body was molding against her back, she felt his groin pressing against her buttocks, and moaned softly as the sexual heat rose increasingly strong within her. This was insane, she knew. Aside from the shock and shame of allowing a total stranger to chain her and touch her so intimately, her professional instincts admonished her severely for being so stupid as to let herself be lured into a potentially dangerous situation. She was a police officer and this was an inexcusable lapse.
   His right hand slid down over her churning tummy, and his fingers nimbly popped the catch at the front of her trousers, the timely touch of his lips against her throat causing her to melt again and silencing the protest she knew she should make.
   His hand crept down into her trousers, down into her panties, cool fingers instantly finding her wet sex, brushing her clitoris. The intensity of her reaction shocked her, and her hips rocked forward.
   'Watch,' he whispered. His teeth bit lightly into the nape of her neck and she shuddered. She felt a finger curving in and up, felt the soft, swollen lips of her sex spread aside as she was penetrated. She rolled her hips again as his finger pushed deeper, and she felt a wave of shame at how wet she was even as she arched her back in helpless pleasure as the fingers cupping her breast pinched and rolled her nipple through her blouse and bra.
   He bit more fervently into her throat, his teeth pricking as they clamped onto her smooth flesh. His hand drew up and out of her trousers and she moaned and swayed, then squealed as he wrenched open the front of her blouse, sending buttons popping onto the floor.
   'D-don't,' she pleaded, secretly thrilled at his dominant strength, but he contemptuously tore the blouse right down the back from collar to hem, as if it were paper, and the two ragged tatters of material slid off her shoulders and down her trussed arms. Her bra was removed with similar disregard, and then he was somehow before her, his fingers sliding through her hair, pulling her head back as his teeth bit at her mouth, his tongue darting in and out, his lips voracious, and the sexual tension was more powerful than she had ever felt in her life before.
   She collapsed into his arms and he bore her downward to her knees, his mouth still upon hers, his breath drawing hers from her overheated lungs, his tongue leading hers in a ritualistic dance. His hands left her hair, gliding up and down her back. Then one squeezed between them and she felt a throbbing nipple caught between a thumb and forefinger. She trembled as they closed against it, rubbing gently, then squeezing, pinching, rolling the nipple until it sparked like a live electrical wire, then pulsed with pain as they clamped vice-like.
   'Do you understand yet, Leah?' he whispered. 'Do you understand yet?'
   And then she was alone. Or at least she felt alone. His body was no longer against hers, no longer touching her. She sagged back dazedly, but now she was on her knees her wrists were held up and to each side and helped support her. She moaned wearily, slowly drawing her head up, and saw him rising tall above her, a hand slowly lowering the zipper of his immaculate trousers.
   His cock was dark, like him, and beautiful, like him. It rose at an angle even as it emerged from his clothing, swelling and lengthening before her widening eyes as she gasped at its impressive length and girth. He grasped her hair, filling his fists with its silkiness, forcing her head roughly up and back, and then with one calculated stab of his hips he thrust himself into her vulnerable mouth.
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'Ello, 'Ello, 'Ello! What insatiable antics 'ave we 'ere then?
Wednesday, 23 December 2009  | 

The heat is on for Detective Leah MacInnes as she and her colleague, Scott, search for an abductor who is taking girls from their beds at night all under similar circumstances. During her investigations for the missing girls Leah meets the strange and seductive Mr Morales, only to discover her smart, professional attitude is beginning to wander and is replaced with an insatiable urge to hunt down men to satisfy her newfound sexual appetite. Not only is she haunted by wicked dreams of being taken by raiders, she finds herself visited by a ghostly apparition who calls himself Leah's Master, and takes great pleasure in using and punishing her as and when he requires.

Why this is, Leah doesn't know, but when she meets her new boss, lesbian Taja Mbweni, who also seems to have it in for her, she finds herself both loving and hating the extra demands being made of her with a shameful excitement. Unable to understand why she is suddenly starting to fancy her boss and other colleagues, Leah's investigations lead her on a promiscuous road to self discovery, hidden desires and the finding of ancient vampires who hunger for young flesh and blood. Will she be able to crack the case and save the missing girls before she too becomes their latest victim?

Flesh & Blood is packed with sexual tension, control, submission and lusty vampires. It's fun, well written, extremely saucy, and will have you turning the pages at a pace equal to Leah's changing sexual desires! If like me, you love reading contemporary erotica mixed with vampires from the underworld, then you're going to adore this raunchy read from Chimera Books.


Rating:  
Loved It!
Wednesday, 23 December 2009  | 

I absolutely loved Flesh & Blood by John Argus, especially the heroine, Detective Leah MacInnes.


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