Perdition House Part 1
by Bonnie Edwards
Print Length: 308 pages
- Publisher: Bonnie Edwards; 2 edition (June 27, 2014)
- Sold by: Amazon Digital Services, Inc.
- Language: English
- ASIN: B00LDBRD0U
Welcome to Perdition House: a house of sin, secrets and seduction.
Ghost stories are not always scary. Sometimes they’re cheeky, naughty and often erotic…
When Faye Grantham inherits a mansion that is her family’s secret shame, she expects to sell the property.
But the spirits who still reside in the mansion have other ideas. Trapped in the bordello, the women who lived and worked there wait to tell their stories to Faye.
The “girls” don’t just hang around waiting. They control Faye’s libido, influence her decisions and drive her into the arms of two very different men.
Liam Watson wears comfort like most men wear cologne. With an interest in adventurous sex, he’s more man than he first seems.
Mark McLeod is a strong, decisive businessman who was not meant to be more than a hot one-night stand. But Mark is in no hurry to end their liaison, and hopes to continue Faye’s lessons in sensuality.
Enthralled with the mansion, Faye must re-examine her engagement, her business decisions, and her beliefs about herself.
As the spirits reveal themselves one by one, Faye learns their stories: how they came to Perdition House, why they joined the women there and some of the secrets that only a high-class bordello could hold.
Faye must choose: the mansion or money, Liam or Mark?
Can Faye accept that love found in Perdition is eternal?
Excerpt: Chapter 1
On a mission she’d been planning for two weeks and wanting for longer, Faye Grantham took a breath, smoothed her palm up her thigh to hike her dress and crossed the threshold into the darkly lit hotel bar.
Desperation was a harsh mistress and demanded sacrifice, and Faye was desperate. Propelled into the bar by a heat under her skin she could no longer deny, her craving exploded outward, from her skin, her hair, and the ends of her fingertips. She was on fire and it amazed her that no one in the hotel lobby had called 911.
Sex with a stranger. An I don’t want to know your name kind of stranger, that’s what she was here for, and that’s what she was determined to get.
She paused inside the entrance to glance around for a likely candidate. At first she was disappointed. A sparse crowd was sprinkled around the edges of the room. Light came from tabletop candles and subdued ceiling bulbs made to look like the night sky. For a bar called the Stargazer, it made sense.
Couples shared a quiet drink and men spoke into their cell phones while checking their laptops. A woman with shopping bags that sported expensive logos sipped a martini. Her mouth was set grimly, and she downed the drink fast, nodding for the next before the glass was set back on the table. An obviously bad day.
The only men of interest were a group of rowdy suits at a table left of the door. Four men in their early thirties, happy and celebrating.
Her inner heat cranked up to unbearable at the sight of all those delicious-looking men. She kept her gaze forward to hide her interest but had to ease out a breath. She half expected to see fire blaze from her mouth.
Need. She’d never felt such need.
Forcing her legs to take her past the men and toward the bar kept her focused.
An ego-boosting silence hit the table as she strolled by. A whiff of tantalizing male cologne swirled around her head as she moved past. It was a man-spice smell that went straight to every feminine scent receptacle in her head. Her nostrils flared to catch every molecule.
If she turned her head to look at the men, she’d stop walking, and one last shred of pride wouldn’t let her. She would not stand there to be ogled openly.
Moisture pooled at the image in her mind of four men touching her with their eyes, skimming her arms, her breasts, her legs, taking inventory of all her secret places. All of them wanting to be with her, inside her hot, hot skin.
Suddenly awash in heat, she took a hard breath. Keep moving.
If she wasn’t careful, she’d end up with all of them at once. She’d be flat out, stripped naked on a bed, with four men making her melt, making her wet.
The back of a male hand brushed lovingly down the side of her naked breast. Pure fantasy, but the feeling was exquisite. She closed her eyes so she could enjoy the intensity. The hair on the back of his fingers would excite and entice as he pressed against the soft flesh. Her nipple would bead; the knuckles, large and knobby, would caress and inflame her areola. Another man would kiss her mouth, sucking at her lower lip before sliding his tongue deeply into her yearning, empty mouth. Oh, yes.
She could have two of them suckle her breasts, and one could pleasure her toes. The fourth, oh, the fourth would slide his broad fingers into her so she could ride out an explosive orgasm before he slid his massive cock into her. She squeezed her thighs together, barely able to walk the rest of the way. Melting in the heat of her own fantasy, she finally made it to a bar stool.
She’d never, ever entertained such hot fantasies before. Maybe it was turning thirty last month, or maybe it was finally being engaged after five years. Or, maybe, it was Colin’s talk of her needing a sex therapist.
Whatever was going on, she loved it. She was living a sexual implosion, and she needed to understand why. And fast.
Her bra felt like burlap and scratched against her raised nipples. Sparkles of desire raced from her breasts to her pussy, and she shivered with the yummy feel. In her mind, one of the men soothed the roughened nubs with an expert tongue. She imagined a wet mouth suckling at her as she tilted her head back to offer more. She shivered as the man’s lips trailed up her neck.
Suddenly remembering she was sitting alone on a bar stool waiting to be served, she pulled out of her fantasy and looked down the bar for the bartender. It wouldn’t do to start moaning in the throes of an imagined orgasm.
She’d be hauled out of her seat and sent to a rubber room.
Maybe that’s where she belonged. But before that happened, she was going to get laid. Her nameless lover would be one of those great-smelling men at the table behind her.
One of them would surely read the signs of her arousal. One of them would tap into it, want to exploit it. One of them would want it bad.
And bad was what she needed.
Bonnie Edwards lives with her husband and pets on the rainy coast of British Columbia. She believes life should be lived with joy. That joy shows up in her earthy, irreverent love stories. Bonnie uses long hikes to bounce ideas off her husband and her standard poodle, who almost always agrees with her.
She has written novels, novellas and short stories for Carina Press, Harlequin, Kensington Books and Robinson (UK) although now she publishes her work herself.
Sometimes her stories have a paranormal twist, likes curses and ghosts, other times not. But they’re always entertaining and guarantee a happy ending.
For more info: http://www.bonnieedwards.com/
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Amazon author page: http://www.amazon.com/Bonnie-Edwards/e/B001IO9UTO
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