The theme is creepin’, that is cheatin’, infidelity, revenge, and payback with delicious paranormal twists. I think the best way to get the flava of a book is by reading it . . . so here’s a taste (this is not for the kiddies, the prudish or ones of tender conscious).
But you know he’s cheatin’ on me, so I creep . . .
Payback is a Bitch by LA Banks
Cherry Hill, New Jersey
“Oh, Douglass… get it, baby.”
“You know I’ma wear it out—just open your legs a little wider.”
“Save some for me, too, lover.”
“I’ve got enough for both of y’all.”
The long, toffee-hued, brunette beauty leaned back on her elbows with her lids half-closed as he carefully sprinkled another line of cocaine on her inner thigh and then dragged his nose the length of it to her crotch, licking up any tiny particles he’d missed. He powdered her bud as she opened her legs wider for him, and then numbed his tongue and lips suckling it off. Her deep moan brought the blonde away from his shaft, the loss of warm, wet mouth-contact made him thrust against air while he watched her dust the brunette’s dark nipples with the expensive white powder. Visual ecstasy claimed him as her small pink tongue laved at the sugared teats, causing the woman beneath him to writhe and buck as his tongue plunged into her swollen pussy.
Blonde hair mingled with brunette hair as the blonde slid her body above her prone friend’s. An agonized expression captured her face as she offered her tight pink nipples to her girlfriend, her finger working against her slippery slit.
“Just suck them,” she murmured to the woman beneath her. “This shit has me so horny, I can’t stand it.”
He watched the brunette struggle to lift her shoulders so she could lap at the double-D sized silicon breasts swaying in her face. The blonde arched and moaned as her friend flicked the pad of her thumb against one nipple and drew the other into her mouth, then finally pushed both creamy breasts together so that she could suckle the sensitive tips at the same time. The brunette’s hips bucked against the attention his tongue was giving her clit.
I’ll keep giving loving till the day he pushes me away
Heat of the Night by Donna Hill
Agggg, God. . .yesssss . . . yessss! Noooo! Ooooohweee! Ahhh, ahhh, ahhh…
The four-poster bed banged up and down, literally leaping off the floor each time that thing pounded into me. The head of it was the size of a fist and the length and breadth of it like a forearm. I craved every inch it. If my thighs were stretched any wider I’d split right in half. I didn’t care. I had to have it, needed it. Each time it rammed up inside my throbbing pussy, lights exploded in my head. My body heaved and trembled violently while scorching tears streamed down my cheeks, the steam from them rising to surround the tainted bed.
I thought I heard myself screaming but the sound was only in my head. The cock was—and no pun intended—out of this world, but it was killing me-night after night-day after day. Still, I never wanted it to stop. Never.
In the distance I heard a ringing. The darkness in the room slowly began to clear. The veil that had clouded my vision drifted away like morning mist. The ringing continued. I felt it slipping out of me, the pressure lifting off my body. I sucked in a deep breath, my first one for what seemed like hours. Whatever held my arms and legs in place released me.
A sudden sickening emptiness pushed up inside my now hollow tunnel and filled my insides with a wretchedness that I could not explain. I wept. Not tears of joy but of a deep sorrow.
If he knew the things I did, he couldn’t handle it . . .
Vamped by Monica Jackson
All he tells me is lies to keep me near . . .
Balancing the scales by JM Jeffries
Paloma Alexander pushed open the front door of her home, dragged her suitcase in after her and walked into the enormous marble foyer. She started to call out to her husband, Keith, to let him know she was back in Las Vegas from her meeting in Los Angeles two days earlier than expected, but decided she would just surprise him. She and Keith hadn’t had time alone together in forever. He would be delighted with the unexpected bonus of having her all to himself for two complete days.
She dropped her house keys in the cut crystal bowl on the side table and frowned at the sight of Keith’s cell phone. How strange, Keith never let his cell phone out of his sight, even taking it into the shower with him.
The cell phone blinked announcing two messages waiting for him. She checked and saw they were both from her–one while waiting for her plane and the other after she’d landed. But now she was happy she hadn’t caught him, anticipating the surprised look on his face when she appeared so unexpectedly.
She erased the messages and put Keith’s phone back on the table. As she glanced up at the curving staircase, the heavy silence weighed on her. Where was the staff? In fact, she realized she hadn’t seen any of the gardeners who seemed to be forever puttering around the huge mansion.
Paloma started up the steps. A muted sound came to her and she stopped, one hand resting on the balustrade, and head tilted to listen. The sound wasn’t repeated.
Love you forever baby soul & mind . . .
Avenging Angel by Janice Sims
Trailing him was a nauseating experience for Sarai. To her sensitive olfactory senses his soul smelled like road kill left to marinate in the sun on an Arizona highway.
He led her through side streets and back alleys of a rundown South Side neighbor-hood. He couldn’t have known he was being watched. Even the beating of Sarai’s wings against the cold Chicago air currents was nearly silent. Yet, he kept looking behind him.
Just paranoid, she guessed.
Finally, he arrived at a tenement house whose heyday must have dated back to the 1920’s, four stories of brick and mortar. The paint had worn off the woodwork years ago. All of the windows were boarded up, and the doors had padlocks on them.
Sarai sensed it was empty except for his prey. She could hear the girl’s heartbeat somewhere in the labyrinth—the lair of road kill. In contrast, the girl’s soul smelled like vanilla-mocha coffee.
Lauren Taylor was under the age of twelve. Humans lost their sweet scent after twelve. If their souls remained innately good, they started smelling like freshly cut grass or pine needles. Any clean, pleasing scent found in the natural world. They only started smelling rotten when they allowed evil to make a home in their hearts.
Old road kill had been evil for a long time. He took one more look behind him before quickly shoving a key into a padlock on the back door, unlocking it, and going inside. He shut the door behind him.
I love this book
Enjoyed it immensely!