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Guitar Man, NOT CURRENTLY
AVAILABLE A
powerful psychic is torn by her conflicting quests
for personal stability and sexual excitement…
When Ellie is dumped at the
altar - again - she swears off men and takes
her wounded heart to Scotland and Jenny (from Undead Men Wear Plaid).
Here she encounters a glorious one-night stand from her past,
Glaswegian busker Chris, and her resolve to eschew men is severely
tested.
Worse, Chris is clearly
connected to a malevolent spirit that lurks in his house but cannot be
traced. Is he himself the source of the evil energy, or is he being
possessed?
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Read Reviews Read Excerpts
Reviews:
"This is fun and highly sensual, a sexy romp that you will read all in one go. I
award 4.5 red roses for this very enjoyable book." - 4.5 roses, Anne, Red Roses
for Authors.
Excerpts:
First, a scary one. Scroll down for a spicy one!
While Chris lounged on the bed, tuning the guitar and
strumming vaguely, I strolled around the room, examining his books – a diverse
collection of music, politics, literature and popular fiction. I found myself
humming along with the melody Chris began to play, although I didn’t recognize
it. I opened my mouth to ask him what it was, when it suddenly changed into a
different tune, discordant yet weirdly hypnotic.
“Chris, that’s horrible!” I chided. “Play something
else.”
Since he didn’t, I threw my head back in mock outrage
and announced I was going to make more coffee. He didn’t object as I swept
dramatically past the foot of the bed, but at the last minute he moved with
startling speed. Hanging on to the guitar with one hand, he launched his body
across the entire length of the bed and reached out to grip my thigh.
Stunned, I stood quite still, staring at his
hand. It was warm, its grip too firm around the top of my leg, the palm secure
around my inner thigh. I knew I would have difficulty removing it, at least by
normal means. I wasn’t even sure I wanted to. I liked Chris’s hands. He had
never been short on boldness, and I supposed I had been enticed up here for a
reason. My ego wasn’t sorry about that either. His fingers dug almost painfully
into my flesh, and yet treacherous tinglings snaked upward from his fingers to
my pussy. I felt suddenly hot and moist.
Slowly, almost afraid, I lifted my gaze from his rigid
hand to his face. His blue eyes gleamed. But he wasn’t smiling. This was a new
Chris to me – dominating, determined, almost…scary.
He said, “Fuck the coffee. Sit on my cock and screw
me.”
Shocked, I reacted purely from instinct. I hurled
un-necessary force at his fingers, prizing them loose with my mind. In less than
a second, I was out the bed-room door and running for the stairs. Stupidly, I
could feel the ache of tears desperate to be shed, and I didn’t even know why.
Chris had never been mealy mouthed. I wasn’t exactly a
shrinking rose myself. In Pisa, part of his charm had been his directness. It
had been exciting, compelling. Yet here, I felt…abused. And by a man I was
beginning to like a lot.
My mobile phone chose that minute to go off.
I heard it from the stairs. Dashing into the living
room where I’d left my bag, I grabbed the phone out of it.
It was Jenny, damn her. “Not a good…” I began, but she
interrupted me, her voice high and harsh.
“Ellie are you okay?”
“Okay? Yes,” I mumbled in bewilderment. Was I?
“Get out of there, Ellie. Now. The readings are off the
scale.”
I grabbed my jacket and my bag and bolted for the
living room door, trying to stuff the phone back into my bag with shaking
fingers as I went. A shadow fell over me, bringing me to an abrupt halt. I could
hear my heart thundering in my ears. Slowly, I raised my eyes.
Chris stood in the doorway, distractedly rubbing the
fingers of his right hand...
*
It was I who touched him deliberately first, tracing
the prominent veins of his hand with one finger. “Is it playing guitar that does
that?” I asked, to provide an excuse.
“I suppose–and the heat. Pianists have even better
veins.” He reached across me for the carafe, and I felt his wrist brush against
my breast. Already hard, my nipple tightened unbearably as if straining for his
touch. “Do you play?”
I shook my head. “No. Why?”
“You have very sensitive fingers.”
I smiled, following the vein over his wrist. He
shivered.
“Ellie?”
“Mmm?”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.” My heart leapt so high I thought it would come
out of my throat. His hand turned, capturing mine, caressing it.
“What are you doing later?”
“Later than what?”
“Later than this.”
“I don’t know.” Lifting my eyes from our entwined
fingers, I looked into his amazing blue eyes. “Do you have any suggestions?”
“Lots,” he said, smiling. His other hand cupped my
cheek, his thumb brushed my lips. I parted them, emitting a tiny gasp of
pleasure. He leaned in to me and captured my mouth.
I was lost. A man who could kiss like that had no
business doing it in a public café. Hot and firm, his lips brought sensual
magic, parting mine further and exploring softly with his tongue until I melted
into his mouth with a sigh of pure satisfaction. Holding my head with both hands
now, he deepened the kiss, making me gasp and gasp again. I sucked his tongue
farther into my mouth, grazed it with my teeth. A growl of desire began
somewhere about my toes and rose up to my lips. I threw my arms around his neck
and still he kissed me as if he would never stop, thrusting and dancing with his
tongue, making love to my whole mouth. It was the wildest, most blatantly sexual
kiss I could ever remember and it left me hotter and randier than I’d ever been
in my life.
“Ellie,” he groaned softly against my lips. “Will you
come home with me?”
Unsteady laughter caught at my breath. “To be honest,
Chris, I’m not sure I can make it that far.”
He smiled into my mouth, delving in for another kiss.
“God, me neither.”
“Where can we go?” I whispered, not even sure if I was
serious. “Where is quiet? And close!”
“Toilette?”
I shook with laughter as well as desire. The knowledge
that he was so desperate for me aroused me beyond fever pitch. I said, “We
can’t! People will see us go in!”
“No one will notice if you’re blatant enough. Come on.”
He leapt to his feet, drawing me with him. As we stood,
careless of onlookers, he wrapped both arms around me, drawing me close into his
body so that I could feel his erection, huge and hard against my abdomen.
Gasping, I pressed into it, pushing my breasts into his hard chest, running my
hands up and down his muscular arms, roving them over his broad shoulders and
back. I just knew he would have the body of a god, and if he was only half as
good at the rest of the stuff as he was at kissing, I was in for one crazy ride,
and I couldn’t wait. Reaching up, I seized his mouth in mine once more. His
hands held my buttocks so that he could grind his erection into me. His breath
came in ragged pants. I could think of nothing except that hard cock pushing
into me, giving me some release from this intensely pleasurable torture.
Tearing my mouth free, I gasped recklessly, “All right.
Take me there. In every way.”
Copyright Marie Treanor 2007
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All contents, including graphics
© 2006 Marie Treanor. All rights
reserved.
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