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 Amazon, ARe 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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