Sunday, March 1, 2015

Pulp Friction has landed in NOLA #pulpfriction #mmparanormal

It’s finally here! Pulp Friction 2015 is here and taking place in New Orlean’s…

This year we are doing something a little different and basing PF in the Altered States world…that’s right shifters and ghosts and incubi oh my!

Can you tell I’ve been dying to say that…lmao

And who do you think decided to go with an incubus as one of their main characters throughout the Pulp Friction 2015 year? Oh that would be yours truly *bows*…I know – what am I, insane? *heads desk*

So please join my world and meet Laurant

Ain’t he a cutie? You can find him at AmazonARe and Smashwords.

Let’s see if we can drive him completely and totally senseless…doesn’t this promise to be all kinds of fun? lmao

Blind Stud
In a world where supernatural creatures openly exist, who can blame them for coalescing in one of the most fascinating and erotic places on earth? Welcome to New Orleans.

Laurant likes sex...

Maybe that’s an understatement, pleasures of the flesh are more than enjoyment, they’re a necessity. He’d starve without them. Problem is, he isn’t attracted to women, and in his family, if you get your sex from men, you’re the wrong type of demon. The (unfortunate) life of an incubus isn’t all orgies and orgasms.

That life is about to get a lot more interesting, though, when he catches sight of a lost and alone human who definitely needs his help…doesn’t hurt that he’s hot as the NOLA summer with just as many mysteries about him.

A stranger to himself...

What are you supposed to do when you blink your eyes and realize you have no idea who or where you are? Pretty sure the answer isn’t trust a sex demon with your life…all things considered that may be the lesser of two evils…

About Pulp Friction 2015
Lee Brazil ~ Havan Fellows ~ Parker Williams ~ Laura Harner

The Pulp Friction 2015 Altered States Collection.
Four authors.
Four Series.
Twenty books.
One supernatural finale.

Spend a year with the creatures that go bump in the night…fighting for their rights to exist and protecting the innocents of The Big Easy. A diverse group of friends trying to find their place in a world they never had to “fit” into before.

Although each series can stand alone, we believe reading the books in the order they are released will increase your enjoyment.

Round One:
Drawing Dead (Jack of Spades: 1)
Blind Stud (King of Hearts: 1)
The Devil’s Bedpost (Four of Clubs: 1)
Diamonds and Dust (Ace of Diamonds: 1)

Blind Stud
A poker game played as five-, six-, or seven-card stud where all the cards are dealt face down—you are blind to them.
This game is action-packed and exciting, the gamble is exceedingly prominent…paralleling life perfectly.

Chapter One

He blinked.

He swept the landscape in front of him, houses and people and lots of colors—greens, yellows, and purples all over the place…

He blinked again.

Nothing was familiar to him. It wasn't unfamiliar in the aspect that he couldn't remember any of it—more in the realm of he'd never seen this place before in his life. A distinct difference between driving an as-of-yet never ventured into part of town compared to driving through a completely different region with differently styled buildings and a foreign feel.

This was a foreign feel to him.

He turned a hundred eighty degrees and stared at the surroundings previously behind him.

Another blink.

Still nothing.

Where was he? What city was he in? What state? Country?

Someone hurried past him on the sidewalk and roughly bumped his shoulder. The unexpected force twisted him at the waist but his feet were planted firmly in their spots and didn't budge.

"Sorry." The pretty, tall girl smiled coyly at him before the man she was with proprietarily grabbed her elbow and tugged her forward.

He winked at her, enjoying the tinted hue enveloping her cheeks before another jerk on her elbow had her facing front and speed-walking to keep in step with her boyfriend.

Tilting his head, he admired her ass, the perfect shaped globes jutting out on the bottom and tapering up to an hourglass midsection, reminding him of an upside-down heart. His gaze leisurely made its way to the boyfriend's ass, firm, solid and blessedly not flat. It had none of the jiggle the woman's ass boasted. Truly buttocks a man could hold and work into without worry of hurting the sensitive bits.

The woman was cute. The man was hot.

Either one would be a nice distraction, but he had issues at the moment that had to be tended to.

How did he come about standing here, not knowing where here was?

Others walked around him, more considerate than the female. The sidewalk where he stood featured a decent amount of foot traffic, or at least he assumed it did. What was a decent amount of foot traffic? A dozen people every few minutes? Two dozen?

Again, he shook his head, trying to focus on the problem at hand. The number of people forced to step around him would not answer the question of who he was.

Oh my…he didn't know who he was either.

Well, this was inconvenient.

He brought his hand up and ran it through his hair—short and soft. He then gripped his chin and rubbed it. Bristly. Somehow he knew that to be the norm; he suspected he hated shaving.

His stomach growled and he concluded he enjoyed food, and needed some soon. But for food he'd need money…and where there was money there would be identification.

His dunce moment finally ended and he searched the pockets of his jeans. Empty. Well, of course he wouldn’t get lucky enough to have something as important as an identification card or license. That would be too simple. He wondered if his luck always ran in this direction.

So to put this all in perspective, he stood in the middle of an unknown street with no memories, identification, or money?

If he prioritized his situation, his hunger needed attending to first. After that simple task, he could move on to the more complex issues, like who he was and where he came from. Sure, where he stood was important also, but learning where there was seemed relatively easy.

Just to prove that fact to himself, he stepped over to a gentleman who’d been fixated on him quite obviously.

"Excuse me, where am I?"

The man looked him up and down before the corner of his mouth twitched. He stepped closer and ran a hand lightly down his arm. "Where are you trying to go?"

The man tried to maneuver closer but he stared him down, not appreciative of the uninvited attention. Something about this person made the hairs on the back of his neck prickle.

He decided this wasn’t the person to help him with his dilemma and turned away.

An unapproved hand grabbed his forearm and the stranger spoke again, “Don’t run away so quick. I can help you.” The words were innocent enough, but the impression behind them made his skin crawl. He didn’t understand, but his gut reaction was to leave this man’s presence now. Since he didn’t have anything he could trust right now but himself, he heeded his gut’s sentiment and yanked his arm back.

As the man reached again another stranger appeared, almost as if from nowhere, and situated himself right in between him and the man.

"Vic, my dear, you have me intrigued." The new stranger winked at him before turning to the man he'd tried to escape. "We're good. Head on down the banquette, sugar."

He expected the man to be upset by the interruption, but instead, his eyes darkened as he looked between the two of them. He didn't move his feet, but his body leaned forward trying to invade their personal space.

"Oh no no no, off wit’ ya now." The new stranger laughed, a deep drawl rolling through his voice that wasn't there mere seconds ago.

The man seemed to respond to it as was evident in the very pronounced bulge of his jeans. Nodding to them both as if in a haze, he turned away and hurried to another small group of people, immediately sidling up and hooking his arm around a shapely woman’s waist.

The new stranger belly-laughed rather loudly before straightening and centering his full attention back to him. "Deities save me from humans that think they’ve got game. This is the place for me to do that voodoo I do so well. Now back to you, Vic…tell me all about yourself. Don’t you be leaving any bits and pieces unexplored, either."

He looked at the new intruder. This one didn’t raise any warning bells in his system yet. The man wasn't much smaller than him physically, yet he had a distinct impression that size wouldn’t be judged in feet and inches with this one.

"Do you know me?"

"Well, not in the biblical sense…yet…" the man quickly responded, dragging his upper teeth over his bottom lip and pulling it tight.

"What's your name?"

“You can call me Laurant…or fate, either or.”

“And my name is Vic?”

Laurant studied his face. “You don’t know?”

He took a deep breath, wondering if this man knew him or was just causing trouble. “You called me Vic. Am I?”

“Well you reek of victim, Vic. That player had you in his sights something fierce.” He nodded in the direction of the hustler and his next mark. “Me being a stand-up kind of”—he cleared his throat—“guy, I couldn’t let that happen, now could I? As for what your real name is, well, it’s customary for the owner of the name to bequeath other people with it, not the other way around.”

Just as he figured, Laurant didn’t know him and they were wasting time standing here chatting. He turned and walked away down the sidewalk.

“Oh hey hey, now now, if it was that easy to escape me, my friends would’ve done it many many years ago…I’ve got legs too, you know.”

“What do you want?” He decided if he could satisfy this Laurant character then maybe the man would leave him alone.

“I’d settle for a good fuck.”

That was just crass enough to make him stop walking. He turned toward the man and really studied his face, looking for some hidden message in his features. Laurant had striking aquamarine eyes that seemed to delve into his very soul, lips with a perfect cupid’s bow, and a chin and cheeks covered with stubble that would rub perfectly against his own.

He jerked, stepping away from Laurant with that thought. Regardless of the other man’s exclamation of wants, he’d meant his perusal of him to be innocent enough…not an inventory of sexy attributes Laurant may or may not possess.

“Oh goodie, you aren’t completely immune to my charms.” Laurant gave him a cheeky smile.

He crossed his arms over his chest. “And what charms would those be, other than your lecherous grin and a curved barbell in your ear?”

“Honey…I’m the man you dream about but can never truly have.” Again Laurant invaded his personal space, leaning in and whispering. “I’m an incubus, cher, and I’ll make all those dreams come true and then some.” His drawl returned with a vengeance.

“I’m not scared of you,” he said in direct response to the stranger’s suggestive proposal.

“Well, that’s a damn good thing, considering you’re a bite-size bigger than me…” The stranger took a half step back and perused up and down his body. “Well, I’ll assume you’re a bite-size bigger, but I think I should investigate, fo’ sure.” That distinctive drawl that played in the background of his voice seeped thoroughly into his words again.

He widened the gap between him and this straightforward stranger with a full step back, resisting the urge to cup his crotch to find out the size of his own endowment. Wasn’t that the sort of thing a man should know? How large—or small—his penis was. Or the color of it…was it severely darker than his—he glanced down at his arm—olive skin or maybe lighter. Were penises always a shade or two darker? Could they possibly be lighter? Did he know the answer to these questions? Shouldn’t he know the answers to these questions? Had he seen a lot of different ones? Did he have a preference for the male body organ over the female’s? What did a woman’s vagina look like? Had he ever been intimate with the fairer sex?

“Having any good thoughts there?” a voice whispered way too close to his ear.

This time he resisted the urge to move away. He wouldn’t show weakness to this nuisance. “What do you know about my thoughts?”

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