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
Release Date: Jan 22 2015
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
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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.
She loves keeping fit and enjoys running, cycling and water sports. No, not those kinds of water sports; think surfing or sailing. That doesn’t mean that she doesn’t enjoy BDSM in all of its glorious forms, be that pony girls, bondage, edge play, orgasm denial or a damn good spanking. Her favourite item in the toy closet (a box simply isn’t big enough) is her riding crop.
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

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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