Okay – I completely suck…I always forget to blog about my new releases *hangs head*
So the beginning of the month I released my Under the Gun—final book in my Pulp Friction 2015 Altered Stated edition. It was an emotional journey for me. I fell in love with Laurant and Gun. Each book they surprised me, I was very much on the roller coaster with the readers in a sense. And this last book ratcheted up the sexy, the danger, and the multitude of relationships that make Pulp Friction the great legacy that it is.
Thank you Laurant and Gun for allowing me to tell your story… <3
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.
A sex demon no longer interested in feeding just for the necessity of it.
Laurant is secure enough in his demonhood to admit to the few flaws he has, such as mouthing off to the wrong people and ignoring warnings from his dear old dad…but he isn’t quite ready to fess-up to his latest self-revelation. He doesn’t want to feed from any other person or supernatural but the mystery man who is no longer a mystery. Unfortunately, it seems there are other people who want Gun for themselves, and Laurant might not be strong enough to keep him.
They say you can never go home…what they didn’t mention was that trying might be the death of you…
Gun finally knows who and what he is…now he needs to find out why. He’s been commuting between New Orleans and his hometown in Maine for the past couple of months in search of answers, and all he’s found out is that half the population is afraid of him and the other half wants him dead. He longs for the simpler times in life when all he had to worry about was beating off an incubus’s advances and who had the king of hearts to complete his flush. Now he’s fighting against human police and supernatural creatures alike…and the winner takes all.
Gun needs to come to terms with who he was to figure out who he is. Laurant needs to decide if he will stand beside whichever Gun prevails.
May the real Gun please stand up.
“You just left them there. You got up from the table and just walked away from them.” Laurant sat on the vanity, left foot propped up, bending his knee, idly rubbing his inner thigh as Gun toweled off from the shower they’d just shared.
“Yes, we did.” Gun agreed, wrapping the towel around his hips while eyeing his lover’s cock. He knew by now that Laurant’s erection never completely went away, but it still mystified him that two orgasms in the shower couldn’t deflate it some. Since the incubus hadn’t fed in the past week, a power surge couldn’t be responsible for his constant state of arousal.
Unfortunately arousal never stopped the demon from talking. “Don’t you clump me in with this. I’m not the mastermind of evil as you appear to be. But they knew something. To leave without finding out what was stupid.”
“No. I’m quite certain I’ve done many stupid things in my life, however long that is.” He hesitated for a moment, wondering if he aged as a human or slower as some magickally inclined supes did. The fact he knew nothing about mages really unsettled him and raised his ire even more. “But I’m even more certain leaving them as is for the moment will not present itself on that list.”
Laurant disappeared from the counter, appearing across the bedroom naked. “You aren’t even talking like yourself anymore.” He opened the bureau drawer and rifled through the clothes.
All the emotions Gun had bottled up, every single shred of helplessness, rage, annoyance, and fear he’d experienced from the moment he came to stand on the side of Burgundy Street, hit him in the solar plexus. His abdominal muscles clenched with the metaphysical blow. He saw red through the bathroom door and across the room.
“And please tell me, Laurant”—he stressed his lover’s name with a sneer—“how do I talk? Do you even know? Are you comparing today to the day that we met? Was that my normal talk when I had no knowledge of what I was or even my name? Or how about four months ago when I met my “wife”, was that my real talk?” He stalked across the room, his chest expanding with every harsh breath he took as he ground out word by word the fierce thoughts that had haunted him. “Tell me, Laurant, what is the norm for me? Because I’ve been searching for it for over half a year now and I’m no closer to knowing. So if you have information that will help me discover which monster I am—the one that terrorizes people in New England, the one that disintegrates a demon’s chest with my bare hand, or the one that’s consistently fucking a demon—please let me in on the secret. I’d really appreciate that.”
He stood directly in front of Laurant, and even though they only differed in height by a few inches, his bridled fury had him hovering over the slightly smaller man. It didn’t matter that Laurant wasn’t the cause for his anger. All that mattered was his proximity when Gun’s wrath boiled over.
“Deities”—Laurant roughly whispered as he took himself in hand—“right now could you be the one fucking the demon?”