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Thursday, September 17, 2015

Haunting the Mayfair by @DenyseBridger #Kindle #Giveaway


 



Haunting the Mayfair
A sexy Halloween tale


Rick loves Cindi, but he worries about her. Apart from his past, there is the very real problem of her insatiable curiosity, so for Halloween he decides to teach her a lesson she’ll never forget...

Rick Leighton is a world-class, sophisticated intelligence operative with a questionable past. He’s tried retiring, leaving it all behind, and for a time he did. But the past has a way of catching up to you, and he was the company whore for a long time when he was an active agent. Much to his surprise he’s fallen in love with the daughter of his mentor, a girl fifteen years his junior, but her love and devotion to him–her acceptance of him–has taught him the kind of love he once scoffed at.

Rick loves Cindi, but he also worries about her. Apart from his past, there is the very real problem of her insatiable curiosity, and for Halloween, he decides to teach her a lesson in being more careful. He lures her to an old hotel that’s been abandoned for decades, and reputed to be haunted. She goes, led by the intrigue and her curiosity, just as he knows she’ll be.

When Rick grabs her in the hallway, her anger is quickly overwhelmed by the scope of his private party and all it entails. In the afterglow of their passion, though, the ghosts of the place become all too real, and Rick’s past clashes violently with the love that defines his present.

When Cindi is taken hostage by a woman he once used and left, one who blames him for the death of her son, blood and death are the only way back to safety.

Excerpt:

You should know better than this.

She couldn’t escape the twinge of conscience that reminded her how often she played out of her league. When her father had retired from the Agency and started his own private investigation business, he’d thought his daughter would be safe from the ghosts of his violent past. More than once though, Cinthya had paid for the deeds and decisions of Joshua Bradley’s previous career. Her relationship with Rick wasn’t a point of reassurance either in the creaking darkness of the forsaken hotel.

There were people who knew Rick and his reputation. Sometimes it was a point of protection, but here that was irrelevant. It was with Joshua’s very reluctant blessing that his twenty-year-old daughter had stepped into a loving relationship with his former business partner, the shadowy, sophisticated and lethal Rick Leighton. The more than fifteen-year age difference was only the first objection her father had voiced when Cinthya had been forced by her own conscience to open up to him—conscience and the undeniable need to share her happiness with the other important person in her life.

Rick’s recent decision to leave Bradley’s Private Investigations and reenter the life of an active operative set up an entirely new array of potential dangers for Cinthya. It was a risk she was more than willing to take, but not something that lessened the worry from her father and Rick.

She leapt back in fright when something clingy and featherlight brushed against her face. With a cry of disgust, she batted away the filmy cobwebs and peered into the shadowy stairwell. She was on the second floor—only one more flight to climb. Then she’d have to find room 313.

Some people claimed the Mayfair Hotel was haunted, and those who lived in the area could tell endless stories about “sightings” and other mysterious events in the ancient edifice.

Another shudder ran the length of her spine when she heard skittering near her feet. Rats! The place had to be infested with rats. She glanced around, her breath still as she searched the growing darkness for the beady red eyes she was sure she’d find watching her. There was nothing staring at her from the blackness of the corners and she sagged against the wall as she gasped for air.

God! Rick was right, I should never have stayed up all night watching horror movies.

He’d consented to sit through the original version of The Phantom of the Opera—he deemed that particular film “a classic”—but Cinthya had been on her own after that. It had been nearing daybreak when she’d finally crawled into bed—and about another thirty seconds before she flew out again, tripping in the sheets and falling flat on her face at his unexpected grab. Rick had almost fallen out of bed himself from laughing at her. He was still laughing when he’d left the apartment earlier this afternoon.

Cinthya dismissed the monsters and ghouls of the previous night and concentrated on locating the room where she was supposed to find her mystery caller. A sag in the weathered wood of the floor creaked in the hollow corridor. She bit her bottom lip to prevent any sound from escaping. Her hammering heartbeat gradually subsided and some of her fear-induced dizziness passed. A chill skittered across her skin when she stared up at the shadowy ceiling, her gaze drawn to the vast network of cobwebs that had been woven over the years. It looked like wisps of cotton, stretched to the point of breaking, except that this thready cloak was dulled with years of dust and grime.

A distinct thud at the other end of the long hallway had her heading in that direction.

When she was still several doors away from Room 313, she was grabbed from behind.

Adult Excerpt:

The shock of the cool chair against her bare skin sent another shiver through Cinthya. But before she could recover completely, Rick had most of her clothes off and was halfway through tying her ankles back to the legs of the chair, this time to the back legs, leaving her thighs spread wide.

Her heartbeat doubled when his fingers began a slow, barely perceptible pattern of caressing her legs, starting at the back of her ankles and gradually moving upward. The room actually did a crazy spin when Rick bent his head and started following the path of his roaming hands with his lips.

Cinthya squirmed with renewed urgency as she tried to free herself from the surprisingly strong bonds. Rick’s tongue barely touched the wet folds between her legs, but the featherlike contact created a spasm of reaction in her. She shuddered and gasped, the sound becoming a tiny moan when he repeated the gesture with a slow, lingering sensuality. Then he leaned back to look up into her eyes.

“Why…?” She wasn’t even sure what it was she wanted to ask as the words got caught in another trembling twitch. His fingers were smoothing gentle touches on the inner skin of her thighs.

“Because I love you, Cindi,” he answered around a huge smile, supplying his own meaning to the gasped query.

She looked down to watch his hand brushing over the dark-gold thatch of hair between her thighs and tried to thrust into the contact. Frustration played through her when he refused to accommodate her.

“Rick? Do you think maybe you could love me a little faster?” The words were expelled like a choked breath of air and her face warmed with the heat of her embarrassment as well as her passion.

“How fast are you thinking, sweetheart?” His grin was on the verge of dissolving into laughter.

His finger finally delving into her wet heat effectively cut off any attempt at an answer, her hips again shifting into his touch. He probed deeper into her and started a slow, gentle rhythm, his own breath becoming audibly strained when her head fell back and her lips parted with a breathy sigh.

Rick stilled the motion of his hand after several minutes of slow, steady stroking, waiting for her dazed eyes to find his in the growing shadows of the ancient hotel room. In the soft glow of light from the lamp, Cindi’s hair shone like burnished gold. Blue eyes found his and she stared at him, shaking uncontrollably, her expressive features filled with longing.

Rick kissed her lips then lowered his head until he was able to push his tongue into the warmth that had been occupied moments before by his finger. He heard the catch in her already too-fast breathing as he let his tongue glide over the swollen folds then probe into her again. The erotic torture evoked a desperate moan from her. For a couple of minutes he allowed a tentative rhythm to build, then slowly eased away from her again.




Short Author Bio and Links:

Canadian born and bred, and a lifelong dreamer, I began writing at an early age and can’t recall a time when I wasn’t creating in some artistic form. My life has had several on-going love affairs that shape much of what I write.  In the past half dozen years, I’ve released books in all lengths and genres, and it’s something I hope to continue to do for many more years. A visit to my websites will show the diversity of what is currently available, as well as other surprises and extras!


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