Black Dog and Rebel Rose
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by Danielle D. Smith
Description: Skriker. A meltingly sexy hunter with rock star style. An insatiable seducer and lover of women. Son of a human lady of the night and a True Native of Hell, he is a killer of the evils that dwell in darkness. Fifty miles of bad road will lead him and his rumbling Harley to an abandoned town and the vampyre hunt of his dreams. It is in the rot and the ruin that Skriker will discover his destiny. Rose. A fierce and beautiful huntress haunted by a tragic past. The most amazing woman that Skriker has ever met. A sizzling tryst will lead him to discover that Rose is his soul mate, the girl who will make him abandon his lustful ways and make him hunger for her alone. But Skriker's new beloved harbors an ironic secret. A secret that may lead to a half-demon's gruesome undoing...
eBook Publisher: Solstice Publishing,
eBookwise Release Date: September 2010
4 Reader Ratings:
Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [171 KB]
Reading time: 106-148 min.
Skriker's latest conquest lay sprawled amidst damp tangled sheets on the wide hotel bed, her naked body slicked with sweat. She was grinning hugely at him, her brown hair tousled across the pillows, her eyes dancing with a wild sexual light.
"Holy fuck," she mumbled. "I knew the minute I saw you that you'd rock my fucking world. Holy fucking fuck."
Skriker glanced over his shoulder at her and winked. "Hardly holy, baby."
After dislodging himself from her he had strolled casually over to the little corner table, his dick shiny-wet at half mast as he stepped over discarded clothing strewn across the ugly carpet. He now stood rifling through the pockets of his motorcycle jacket, looking for smokes. Standing there naked beneath the oily hotel room light, he was imposing and eye-catching in a way that few men were. He was a bad boy punk, through and through, but bigger and badder than most rock n' rollers you'd meet.
Tall, with a body that most women found drool-inducing; he was immensely muscular and as hard as a rock, sculpted like a Greek statue from some bygone century. He was a stunning example of masculine prowess. His hair was naturally Billy Idol platinum blond and stuck straight up in thick chunky spikes. Large portions of his flesh were scrawled with expertly applied tattoos, including two full-color sleeves, lending an even sharper edge to his already brazen looks.
He plucked a crumpled pack of smokes from his jacket and turned toward the woman on the bed, smirking, and his leaf-green eyes glittered like chips of polished jade. The woman eyed his penis, which even in a relaxed state was of impressive size and girth, and fingered herself between her legs.
"Two ciggies left," Skriker said. "One for moi, one for toi."
She tittered foolishly. "You could teach my husband a thing or two."
Skriker snorted; it wasn't the first time he'd heard that. "I'm sure I could, baby."
He strolled back to the bed and handed her a cigarette. She lit up and smoked, still eyeing him lustfully.
"I get so bored on these business trips," she purred. "I'm so pleased that I picked the same bar that you decided to sidle into. You are, without a doubt, the best cock that I have ever had. I think I should be ready for another round in a quick minute."
Skriker flashed his famous charmer's smile and poked his cigarette into the corner of his mouth. He turned and strolled into the bathroom before she could say anything else, nonchalantly kicking the door shut behind him.
He stood in front of the long bathroom mirror, gazing at his nude reflection in the harsh hotel light. He was already beginning to feel antsy; ever since he had gotten word of the hunt waiting for him outside of the city he had been anxious to stake his claim before any other hunter did. He had stepped into the pub for a quick drink, something to slake his thirst in the summer heat before he jumped on his Harley and blasted out of town. But he had run into this bored cougar at the bar, and she had had a hotel room waiting with a few bottles of champagne and, well, one thing had led to another...
Damn his fucking appetites. There was nothing to be done about it.
He grinned at himself in the mirror, watching as his eyes began to glow, going from lime to flame as if twin coals suddenly burned in his sockets. He touched the tip of his finger to the end of the cigarette and it bloomed to fiery life, hissing and glimmering. He puffed contentedly, and his reflection exhaled smoke at him, its eyes as bright and fire-filled as his own.
Being a half-demon, the son of a True Native of Hell and a human woman, had its benefits. Sure, he hunted his own kind out of hatred for what they represented and for what they had done to his family and in turn to him. Hunted the myriad and other foul things that dwelled in the dark; feeling akin to none of them, he slaughtered them with pleasure, as his father had chosen to do when human love had changed him, turned him away from Evil.
But there was some pride in feeling his teeth lengthen in his maw, watching black claws spring from his big fingers like those of some horror raptor. To see the things he hunted squeal in fear before he dispatched them.
To be able to light his cigarette with his bare fucking finger. Awesome.
"Is something burning?" the cougar called lazily from the bedroom. Skriker sighed and his gaze cooled, going back to green. He took a final long drag and dropped the butt into the toilet before taking a long slow steamy piss on top of it, yawning hugely and scratching his ribs as he did.
The cougar was still lounging on the bed when he came back into the room; she had crushed her cigarette out in the cheap plastic ashtray on the nightstand. She watched Skriker pick his leathers up off the floor by the bed and dig into a pocket. He fished out a candy bar and tore the wrapper off, demolishing the treat in two huge bites. The cougar tittered drunkenly.
"You sure like that candy, honey. That's the third one I've seen you eat since we got back here."
Skriker licked chocolate from his fingers and reached out, pinching one of her nipples between his spit-wet fingertips. "I am quite fond of sugar," he said, and winked. He began to turn away, intent on exiting the situation as quickly and effortlessly as possible. He had a fifty-plus mile journey ahead of him and he was anxious to get a move on. The cougar whimpered, climbing up onto all fours and swatting his ass.