It’s my pleasure to host my friend and cp, Ju Dimello, in honor of her second release with Ellora’s Cave. Ecstasy Entwined will have you riveted to your seat as you read the story of how a vamp and a siren get together. I loved it! And I’m sure you will, too. Don’t you just love that sexy cover?
A siren whose voice can kill and a vampire who strips her fears along with her clothes. Over the phone or with sex toys, this vampire hopes to deliver some fangtastic orgasms.
Elena is lonely, until she meets Gregory. The hot, mysterious vampire shatters the barriers she’s erected around her heart. She sheds her inhibitions, reveling in her sexual surrender. But a true relationship is out of the equation since her voice might kill him.
Gregory has never allowed his lust and need for blood to mingle. The mind-blowing sex with Elena not only strains his control, but also brings out a hidden dark streak. Does he dare hope she can assuage the dangerous need she’s ignited in him?
Ready for more? Here’s an Excerpt:
“My voice kills people.” Her sultry voice faded into a whisper as she delivered the truth he’d been waiting for.
Gregory Lathrop covered the mouthpiece with his hand and swore. What were the freaking odds?
Her name whispered across his brain and settled in his chest. Intrigue warred with the overflowing, yet inexplicable, emotions she sparked in him.
He leaned back into the chair, hoping to ease his fierce erection. Instead, the movement backfired.
The slide of the zipper against his cock, even through his briefs, made him ache as much as her voice did.
She was so controlled and spoke so damn softly that he wondered what it’d take to make her scream. He wanted to be the one who unleashed all her pent-up passion.
Fascination was a mild word for the curiosity she evoked. The shades of beige and brown—colors he’d chosen specifically for their calming properties—decorating his office barely reined in his clashing emotions. An eternal war raged within him, where hope battled caution. Hope persuaded him to take a chance, not let his potential mate slip by him, while caution born out of memories of vampires slaughtered by humans held him back.
Since he’d started the midnight helpline as a cover-up to provide a hope of refuge for preternatural beings, nothing should surprise him much. The vampires he employed to work the night shifts directed any mortals who called in to a different section while working to earn the trust of immortals.
He’d been obsessed with her from the moment she’d called his helpline. The unbidden attraction could fall into either category—good or very bad.
He clutched the phone as tightly as a lifeline and let out a strangled growl. “That’s the secret you’ve been holding out on me for months?”
He sensed her hesitation. Of course she’d be wary. Anyone would be. Inevitably, they came together in the end. Elena was no different. Once she opened up completely, he’d let her know about their underground immortal network and bring her in. Until then, he’d keep up the charade.
Any paranormal calling the nocturnal helpline needed a lot more than a vampire’s thrall to let down their guard. As one of the oldest among his kind, he’d perfected the art of coaxing the information he wanted.
“You can trust me with anything, Lena.”
Her breath hitched. “Yes.”
Even the slightest sound from her lips sent his imagination toppling over the cliff. She stirred his lust and taunted his hunger as if she were born for the sole purpose of tormenting him with fantasies.
Try as he might, he couldn’t prevent the surge of bloodlust, even on the phone. Not even when she’d just admitted who she was, or rather, what she was. Though his life spanned millennia, he’d never encountered a real siren.
Even in the middle of his work night, all he could think of was her—naked and sprawled for his pleasure. Spreading her pale thighs. He’d lick her glistening juices while working his fingers into her tight ass, driving her mindless with frenzy. She’d moan, beg him to fill her, to fuck her. His control would be sorely tested with her mewling cries and throaty demands. He wouldn’t give in, no matter how much he wanted to bury himself in her tightness again and again. He’d hold on until she shattered beneath his sensual onslaught and then he’d start all over. He’d…
He shook his head, clearing the dangerous, yet enticing, images. Over the centuries, he’d never met anyone who could churn such emotions within him. And now, all he could think of was getting her naked. Impossible over the phone, but he hoped she’d give him more details. Eventually.
The vampire in him didn’t want to wait for such formalities, but he held on, exerting every inch of patience he possessed rather than tearing through all of New York, ripping the ends of the earth apart to get to her. The sane, logical part of him warned him to take it slow. She’d come to trust him enough to share her secret. He needed to go one step at a time, hoping for more. Knowing the sensible recourse of his actions wasn’t the issue—controlling himself was. Insidious whispers filled his brain, logic driven away by feral lust.
“Tell me what you’re thinking, Gregory.”
Her words brought him back to the conversation with a wry smile. She never shortened his name, as if she still inhabited an era where using proper names was the trend. He should know, having lived through enough of them to tell the tales. Except, he’d never had anyone to share them with.
“Gregory? You still there?”
His name, spilling from her in that soft breathy voice, only heightened the lust fogging his brain. Crossing his legs didn’t ease the incessant throbbing down south. He let out a pent-up breath of frustration. “Sweetheart, if I don’t hear from you again, it might just kill me.”
There. Let her handle the truth!
“You sure know how to make a woman feel better.” Her broken laugh sounded suspiciously like a sob.
His instincts clamored to reach out to her, to protect her. “Elena, are you all right?”
“I suppose I am. I’m not sure.”
“What the hell—on earth—do you mean?” He attempted, but failed, to quell his concerned growl. What was she unleashing in him?
“I wonder why I’m living anymore.”
Concern washed over his undead heart, tension coiling in his guts. This wasn’t about him or about the darkness threatening to consume him whole. The one female he cared about was losing it and all he could think of was himself and his crazy urges?
Get your shit together, Lathrop.
Cursing silently, he sat up straighter. She’d trusted him enough to reveal the truth. He could very well deliver the practiced speech, give her the required information necessary to hook up with other immortals and be done with it. Done with her.
Even the thought of letting her go made him want to roar his denial.
“There’s always a purpose to life,” he started, and gritted his teeth. He sounded as if he was a freaking philosopher and, hoping he made sense, he spat out the rest. “Even if we aren’t aware of it right now.”
Hopefully she wouldn’t ask him what he meant or expect further explanations. The thrall in his voice could calm her down and he wasn’t above using a little of his powers where, or for whom, it counted the most.
“Tell me what happened.”
She sighed. “I slept with one—a man.”
Fury crashed, mingling into his system as though a potent poison. Did the man hurt her? If he’d even laid a finger on her, Greg wouldn’t hesitate to tear him apart limb from limb.
“The sex was fun. Even refreshing,” she continued, seemingly unaware of the fear, for her, rampaging through him.
His voice went low, dangerous to his own ears. “But?”
Her sniffles turned into hiccups as she obviously controlled her urge to bawl and his heart squeezed. So brave, his little warrior, and so alone. Just like him.
“What? How?” He bellowed right into her ears and regretted his shout the moment the line went silent. She needed his assurance, not his outburst. Her confusion, and the identity crisis that had propelled her to seek assistance from his helpline, seeped through the barrier around his heart, urging him to battle on her behalf.
“What exactly happened?” he asked. “And when?”
“Umm—a couple of years ago.”
Decades, he surmised by the hesitation in her voice, but waited for her to open up and spill her guts. He’d never been so affected by another’s plight to date. Sleeping with women, yes. Embroiled in their emotions, no, never.
Not since the fateful day he became a vampire. “Speak to me, love.”
Her tears washed away the momentary panic that arose with his use of the L-word. Each sob tore at him through the distance separating them. She hiccupped again. “One moment everything seemed fine. I think I cried out and then…”
“Then he twitched a bit and went still. I immediately called the cops. The coroner pronounced him dead of a cardiac arrest. But I—I know it was my voice. I killed him, Gregory.”
Survival of a vampire depended on listening to the unsaid and watching out for the unseen. He’d long ago learned to trust his instincts and they now screamed to get to her, to ease her pain and keep her demons at bay.
What would her blood taste like?
He’d heard whispers, of course, of the one woman capable of taunting his lust and igniting a rampant need for blood. He’d sneered at those rumors, chalking them up to old wives’ tales. Fucking was for pleasure and blood necessary for survival. He’d never let either mingle or get out of hand—his cock and fangs, literally. The hunger searing through him threatened to shatter his illusions to pieces.
She needed him; she just didn’t know it yet.
Thankful he’d had the foresight or plain common sense to install soundproofing in his office, he readied himself to explore the unparalleled fascination he seemed to have developed for her over the past few months. Time to up the stakes.
“Sweetheart, I have a sure-fire way to help you forget. You up for it?”
For a moment, he was afraid she didn’t hear him, wouldn’t respond to the verbal thrall he’d put her under.
A terse few seconds passed before a small sound came from her end. “Maybe.”
Battling his relief at her acquiescence and the increasing onslaught of lust settling in his groin, he took a deep breath and let his control slip more than a bit. “Focus on me, Lena.”
Her soft hesitation spread as if it was a wildfire, heating his bloodstream. The hiss of the air conditioner was the only sound in his office before he cleared his throat and began his seduction.
“What are you wearing tonight?”
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