Today is my turn to participate in the Naughty Edition Reviews Blog Hop. Be sure to stop by their main page–they’re giving away an e-reader.
To celebrate – I’m giving away a copy of For The Bite Of It – my vampire series written with author Vina Grey. The idea of a vampire owning a cupcake bakery was inspired when we went to Tucson to write for a few days. We got hooked on a bakery not far from our condo. One day, as we were stuffing our faces with delicious lemon cupcakes and brain storming story ideas, we joked about a vampire owning a cupcake business. We agreed he’d name it – For The Bite Of It – and the story was born.
To have a chance to win, leave a comment on my blog - that’s it. I will choose a winner using a random number generator.
Here’s a blurb and excerpt.
Vincent Esposito is an exiled vampire running a cupcake bakery in Arizona. When a car with a dead driver crashes through the wall of his shop, it also brings All-American, closeted cop, John Reeder into his life. Smitten the instant he sees John, Vincent must battle his attraction to the sexy detective. Bound to silence by the Vampire Council, he can never reveal his true self to John.
John Reeder cannot control his attraction to the sexy Italian baker. But as addictive as the sex is, can John overcome his fear of rejection for being gay and open his heart to a man with so many secrets?
An excerpt from the book
The front half of a silver sedan decorated his bakery, its nose nudging the counter, glass shards peppering the floor like confetti.
Except Vincent Esposito wasn’t celebrating.
As he stepped around the vehicle, glass crunched under his clogs despite his walking-on-hot-coals strut. The car had nose-dived into his store about an hour ago. His landlord, Mr. Sala, sat slumped between his seat and air bag, dead. The situation had all the makings of a B-grade movie you watched at three in the morning to cure insomnia.
“Sir, you can’t come into the crime scene,” stated a tech in blue overalls.
The entire bakery was a crime scene now? That was fine for them but he wasn’t leaving his shop.
He pressed his thumbs to his eyes. All these humans made him nervous as a caged bird with a cat tapping on the bars. A sure sign that he should have fed by now. It had been a long three weeks without blood.
“Sir, you need to step back.” Another uniformed policeman held out his hand to stop Vince. The place was crawling with them.
Vince took a deep, calming breath and turned to the male cop who appeared to be in charge, the one with the gravelly deep voice and sleek dark pants that molded an ass begging to be stroked.
This is what came of abstinence. Lusting after just anyone.
“We’d like to ask you some questions.”
Vince glanced at the detective’s female partner. Too bad. He would have liked to have been interrogated by two men.
“Sure. Er…where do you want me?”
I could you take you anywhere. Anytime.
Ouch, there he went again, thinking flippant remarks, his trademark when dealing with stress. It had been way too long since an attractive man entered his life.
This All-American cop was unexpected, enticing. He brought back memories of the thrill of the chase, that enticing two-step when attraction first hit.
“Let’s go outside. It’s a mess in here.” The man with the begging-to-be-held ass narrowed his eyes. “Unless you want to come back to the station.”
He was not leaving his shop in this mess. “Outside is fine.” Who knew when he’d been forced to own a cupcake bakery he would become so proprietary? Sometimes you couldn’t predict life’s twists and turns.
He followed them out to the square patch of cement with its cast-iron café seating. Thank God, it was still shaded from the near-scorching Arizona sun because sweat already trickled down Vince’s back. It added to that scratchy feeling all over his body that usually came with the abstinence from blood. His experiment of trying rare meat and avoiding sinking his fangs into a person wasn’t going all that well.
“I’m Detective Reeder, this is Detective Norman.” The cop indicated his partner with a flip of his hand.
Vince sat on a hard metal chair.
J. Reeder, read the detective’s badge. What did the J stand for? Something all-American to go with the guy’s clean-cut looks—Jake, John, Joe?
“I would offer you coffee and a cupcake, but…” Vince shrugged.
Detective Norman grinned at him. “Glad you can’t…diet, you see.”
Ah, the eternal quest for the perfect body. Not that she had much body fat, more stocky and muscular than flabby. Both detectives were in decent shape and didn’t look like they spent time at the local donut shop.
Especially Detective J. Reeder.
Why hadn’t they sent a portly policeman with a beer-gut and bad hair? This cop had started to give Vince a serious itch in his nether regions.
“Tell us your account of what happened this morning.” Detective Reeder was all brisk business, his notebook at the ready.
Vince almost expected him to lick his pencil nib. “I was in the kitchen when I heard the crash. I ran into the front of the bakery and saw that.” He jerked his thumb toward the shattered plate glass window.
“Then what did you do?”
“Do? Like any bloody civic-minded citizen, I went to help Mr. Sala. But he didn’t respond. I then called 911.”
“So you know the driver?”
“Dio, yes. He’s my landlord.”
Detective Reeder scratched furiously in his notebook at the mention of his landlord. Fascinated Vince eyed the numerous yellow sticky notes and the pages in imminent danger of falling out. “Was he coming here to meet you?”
He forced his gaze back to Reeder’s face. “Not that I was aware of, although he stopped in occasionally for a cup of coffee.”
“Could he have been meeting someone else here? Was the store open?” Detective Norman queried.
Vince shook his head. “Too early. I was the only one in the shop.”
J. Reeder looked up from his notebook and stabbed him with a piercing blue gaze. “Are you usually here this early?
Why did they have to be blue? Vince had a weakness for baby-blues in a man’s face. If he believed his friend Angelo, a sexual distraction was exactly what he needed at the moment. A good fuck.
Whoa…when had he gone from nice eyes to fucking?
Keeping to the vampire theme, my next excerpt is from For The Bite Of It – book one of the Exile Vampire series. This was co-written with Vina Grey – and we are currently writing book 2. We are a little slow in getting the book out because my writing partner took a new job and is VERY swamped! But, we have a self-imposed deadline to get it to our editor by the end of June.
ADULT EXCERPT: For the Bite Of It, copyright Viki Lyn and Vina Grey, published by Liquid Silver Books
John tossed and turned in the cocoon of covers, his skin sweaty, body too hot. Suddenly he found himself standing beside a king-sized bed, looking down at a sleeping Vincent, red sheets pooling around his knees. His breath caught in his throat. How the hell did he end up in this man’s bedroom?
He scanned the room noticing the stark framed photographs on the walls and the baby grand piano by the sliding glass doors. This was such a vivid dream, none like he’d ever had before or remembered having.
Damn this was more like a nightmare, his hard-on pressed against his khaki shorts.
He ran his hand down the worn cotton of his t-shirt. At least he was dressed, but Vincent only sported black silk boxers and a white sleeveless tee.
The sight of a half-naked Vincent made John extremely uncomfortable, extremely confused and extremely horny. The size of the bed engulfed Vincent. The lean supple body sprawled across the mattress, one leg dangled half off the edge. The man had muscles for being so lean. Vincent’s chest heaved in a relaxed manner, his skin glistening from his night sweat. John let his attention wander downward, the thin silk outlining a good-sized dick making his mouth water. Oh sweet Jesus, he was staring at Vincent’s hard-on and getting all hot and bothered. This wasn’t happening, it couldn’t be. He licked his lips and wondered why he was dreaming this? It was a dream, wasn’t it? It had to be.
Please, for fuck’s sakes, let it be a dream.
He gazed at Vincent unable to tear his eyes away. Vincent had beautiful thick hair now mussed around his smooth oval face, a face far sexier than any man he’d ever fucked. Yeah, definitely sexier.
Jesus, what happened to his willpower? He had a choice to control the crazy maelstrom of lust building inside him or give in. Then his gaze honed in on Vincent’s bulging crotch again and his resolve fizzled like a bottle of flat soda.
Pulling at the hem of his shorts didn’t ease his discomfort. His balls were hot and heavy against his skin. Sweat trickled down his neck, between his shoulder blades. His heart thundered like a racehorse picking up speed, his breath rasping in his chest. If his body had anything to say about it, he’d be jumping the man’s bones any minute now.
Vincent’s eyes opened and he half sat up, elbows propped behind him. He smiled and John gave in to his impulses. He sat on the bed, his knee touching Vincent’s ribs. When Vincent stroked one finger down his neck, he groaned without meaning to. This wasn’t real. It was just a dream—so why not enjoy it.
He closed his eyes and took a very deep breath, and when he opened his eyes again, nothing had changed. Vincent touched him everywhere, his warm fingers trailing fire in its wake. Vincent pinched and teased his nipples, that ultra-sensitive spot, fueling his lust.