Blog Tour: Desiring Death by C.P. Mandara
Title: Desiring Death
Author: C.P. Mandara
Series: Evading Death (Book 1)
Genre: Paranormal/Vampire/Erotica
Publisher: Chimera
Books UK
Number of Pages: 154
Word Count: 62,000
Edition/Format Available In: eBook
Blurb/Synopsis:
Violetta is an executioner… of
vampires. Famed for her fiery beauty and mesmerising personality, she
has never failed an assignment.
Monsieur Martinet is no ordinary
vampire, though. He is a master at his craft and can control humans
with the merest flick of his eyelids. The vampire huntress with the
porcelain skin and flaming red hair has killed all of his brethren,
without exception. He now seeks the ultimate revenge: her submission
in HIS bed.
If he’s allowed to stay alive long
enough, that is.
Book
Links
Amazon
Barnes and Noble
Goodreads
Christina (C.P.) Mandara was born
in the UK, but has spent most of her life travelling the world. She
speaks three languages and has been chiefly employed in the fields of
finance and travel. Her favourite city is Sydney and her favourite
holiday destination is the south of France.
In her spare time she’s usually
cuddled up with a good book, exploring the countryside or baking in
the kitchen. In fact, she loves her kitchen so much she’s one of
few woman who wouldn’t mind being tied to it! Her first and
foremost love is writing, however, and more often than not you’ll
find her on a laptop spinning tales of romance, erotica or dark,
paranormal fantasies.
Author
Links
Blog
{Blissful Blog}
Twitter
{@naughtynell101}
Twitter
{@cpmandara}
Other Works by C.P. Mandara
Pony Tales Series
Hot
to Trot (3)
Named
and Shamed (4)
A
Rough Ride (5)
Evading Death Series
Desiring Death (1)
Excerpt
1
The door opened silently and she was
greeted by the dim interior within, lit up by little more than
candles and a few strategically placed bulbs, but, oh, how they
reflected the light. Rushing inside her sanctum and striding
forwards, as if being further inside the church would help her in her
plight for safety, she couldn’t help but be stunned by the richness
of its design. There was a reason it had been given the nickname of
‘Chiesa d’Oro,’ or ‘Church of Gold.’
Glittering mosaics lined both the floor
and the ceiling, and the gold glass created a shimmering movement
that was truly incredible. Looking up into the vast height between
herself and the domed ceiling, she had reason to feel very small.
Then something clicked inside her and she realised that not only had
she not seen a priest at the door, but no-one had a made a sound
since her entrance. Spinning around to scan the area behind her, she
saw that while the door had been closed firmly shut there appeared to
be not a soul in sight. Whilst Violetta would normally have been more
than capable of taking care of herself, she was in no fit state to
defend herself this evening. She could only hope that the benevolent
priest who had answered her call had left her some privacy in which
to pray.
‘My, what an impressive effort,
cherie. Futile, of course, but impressive, nevertheless.’ Jumping
up in shock, she looked around and searched frantically for a member
of the clergy to come to her rescue. There was no-one to be found.
‘The priests have been disposed of, cherie. It’s just you and
me.’ And there he was, pristine perfection, looking cool, calm and
unruffled. His full-length dark-grey wool coat had not a mark upon
it, his loafers were polished to a high shine and his hair flopped in
beautiful ebony planes against his face. Not even the wind was able
to mar his beauty. He was lounging against a sixteenth century font
to her left and looked exceptionally comfortable there. She wanted to
burst into tears.
Speechless, she watched as both of his
hands cupped themselves together and gathered water from the font. He
liberally splashed himself with it and she knew that he wanted a
reaction from her. Goddamn the man was an utter bastard. She refused
to give him one. Violetta Cancellaro was not going to run over to him
and try to tear his eyes out of his head. That would give him exactly
what he wanted. She could not school her expression, however.
Her eyes shot out of her head and her
mouth dropped open in dismay. ‘You,’ she accused, though no
further words were forthcoming. Her hands were shaking at the thought
of what he might have done to the priests. If she had not come here
tonight, they might still have been alive. She had an awful moment
where she wondered how many deaths would be heaped upon her
conscience this evening. ‘Why did you have to kill them?’ Her
legs crumpled downwards and her knees sank to the tessellated carpet
of marble below. They hit the cold, unforgiving floor with a dull
thud.
‘Oh yea of little faith,’ he
mocked. ‘Contrary to popular belief, I do not go around murdering
messengers of God or deflowering virgins on a regular basis. For you,
I’ll make a special exception, but the general rule is to steer
well clear of them.’ He raised an eyebrow at her, knowing full well
that she did not believe him. ‘Relax, cherie. I sent them to sleep.
They are having a quiet snooze up near the altar.’
She immediately scrabbled to her feet
and turned around to confirm his words. On closer inspection she
found two figures, both clad in voluminous black cassocks, could be
seen strung across the front pew. A few halting steps forward, and
she could see that he had in fact told the truth, for both chests
were rising and falling and the sound of gentle snores could be
heard. She remembered to breathe.
‘Come now, princess. It’s time to
take a little trip. I have a four poster bed and several sets of
handcuffs with your name on them, although I think that the dark,
black rope would look particularly fetching wrapped around your
alabaster arms. What do you think, darling?’
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