Most of my paranormal romances aren’t Halloween material. I show you the friendly, nice side to most of my characters, most of the time.
But there are also some pretty horrific scenes, just in case my readers forget what vampires, werewolves, werelions, and various other shifters are capable of. Here’s part of a particularly horrific torture scene from Riding the Storm. Though, it’s important to remember she’s torturing a very bad vampire, with witnesses, so others will think twice before doing what he did.
She started by cutting his eyelids off, and stuffed them up his ass. She wanted to be sure he watched what she did to him.
She slammed his arm against his shoulder, gave it a few minutes to begin attaching, and then cut every one of his fingers off, making sure he felt every slice. She crammed them up his ass, ripped the arm off again, and then did the same with his other arm.
His right leg was next, and she shattered his kneecap first, before cutting his toes off and poking them into his rectum. She followed with his left leg, repeating her actions, and then stood to retrieve pliers from her pocket.
She used her talons to remove his tongue — the knife wouldn’t hurt anywhere near enough. His tongue went up his ass, and then she tuned his screams out as she pulled every one of his teeth, before poking them in after his tongue.
His wordless screams filled the room as Kendra cut the head of his cock off with a saw-toothed knife, crammed it up his ass, and then ripped the rest of his cock from his body before sending it to join the head. She carefully cut a hole in his scrotum and pulled each testicle out, tearing the connective tissues until she held them in her hands. She then ripped his scrotum off, and crammed the whole mess up his ass.
One of my readers emailed me to ask how my husband sleeps beside me at night, knowing these thoughts are in my head. And I’ll reiterate –– this was a very bad vampire who totally deserved it.
My most recent release — Bash, Volume I — has nothing this gruesome, though we do see him beating people up a few times, and he caves someone’s head in during one of the fights. He got his name from his proclivity for bashing heads in, after all.
When I was a kid, werewolves were grotesque monsters in my mind, half man and half beast — not the sexy alpha men I write about now. My werewolves do have a half form, and it’s probably pretty close to my childhood nightmares, but as long as you’re their friend, they’ll use that form to keep you safe, not to hurt you.
What would you rather curl up with for Halloween reading? Something scary, or something sexy? For me, it’s hands down the latter.
The first three werewolf biker books are out now, with only a few weeks before the final two release. These are the lone wolves who refuse to join the pack, and who’ve formed a motorcycle club. The Pack is run like a dictatorship, with the Alpha having full control. The MC is run like a democracy, with every patched member getting a vote.
Each book gets a little darker, a little more violent, and a little more criminal. I’m having fun with the whole antihero thing.
Do you have plans for Halloween? My oldest is dressing up as Pinterest (her friends will be Instagram and Twitter), and my youngest will be a Minecraft Creeper. In between the Halloween festivities, I’ll be writing the second Only Human book.
Rolling Thunder Motorcycle Club
Genre: Motorcycle Club,
Paranormal Romance, BDSM
Date of Publication: October 16, 2015
Number of pages: 425
Word Count: 63,000
Cover Artist: Syneca Featherstone
What do you get when you mix a bad-ass werewolf biker with a beautiful she-wolf who grew up as the MC President’s daughter?
Book one of the Bash trilogy…
Angelica was raised not only as a biker’s daughter, but as Bud’s daughter — the president of the Atlanta RTMC, which meant she also had dozens of ‘uncles’ who made sure she was safe, happy, loved, secure.
Needless to say, her virginity was still solidly intact when she left for college.
She goes to school up north, where no one knows she’s a biker’s daughter at heart, and thoroughly enjoys her time as a civilian. She gets rid of her pesky virginity right away, but is mostly a good girl while she buckles down to get her degree, staying at school even during the summers to take as many classes as she can fit in.
She’s a different person when she comes home with her Master’s degree, and in spite of her intention to remain a civilian, some of the bikers don’t seem so much like uncles, anymore.
Warning: Lots of hot sex, a touch of BDSM, and an abundance of bad-ass werewolf bikers who are used to getting their way.
This is book one of a three book story. There’s a tiny cliffhanger at the end, but only three weeks until book two releases.
Eight years ago
Kayla met me in the bathroom after last period, and watched as I changed out of my super tiny mini-skirt into jeans. God, if my dad saw me in this skirt he’d have an aneurism.
“I can’t believe you lost Brain. God, Ang, he’s the best biker-bitch you’ve had yet.”
Speaking of aneurisms, my dad nearly had one when he found out Kayla called me Ang. He calls me Angel, but says no one else is allowed to shorten my name. One of the reasons I love Kayla is she isn’t afraid of my dad, or any of the other bikers, and she just kept calling me what she wanted.
I shrugged as I buttoned my jeans and stowed the skirt in my backpack. “I got one of the new guys, I’ve only met him a couple of times. He looks like he’s pissed at the world, and I seriously doubt he’s going to be any fucking help at all with my calculus or chemistry homework.”
“He have a cool name?” she asked as we left the bathroom.
“Bash, and best I can tell, it isn’t ‘cause he’s bashful. And damn, the boy is beautiful.” And he’d be so fucking pissed if he knew I’d called him a boy.
“How you gonna break him in?”
I shook my head. “Haven’t decided. He’s actually kinda scary, even for one of my dad’s men. Also, I don’t think he’s that much older than us. I know when he first came, he couldn’t have even the prospect patch yet, ’cause he wasn’t old enough. They treated him like one, which had to suck, but he didn’t get his first patch until a few weeks ago, so I think he just turned eighteen.”
“You know his story?”
I shook my head. “He has a fucked up accent though. He isn’t from around here.”
Kayla showed the assistant principal the note from her mom saying she could ride home with me, and he waved us to the RTMC vehicle waiting in the car line.
I got into the front passenger seat and settled my backpack at my feet as I put my seatbelt on and told him, “Bash, meet Kayla. She’s my BFF and you’re her ride now, too. Not just mine.”
He breathed deep, and I assumed he’d just realized she’s human and not wolf, and I added, “We have a problem, you take care of her first, then me. I can handle myself a few minutes, but she isn’t a fighter. Get me?”
He pulled forward and glanced in his rear view mirror at Kayla before looking forward again. “My orders are to keep you safe, Princess.”
I sighed and leaned my head back, looking at the road instead of him. “Those are your orders from my dad. Thing is, I can make your life a living hell if I want, or I can help make this a cushy assignment until you get your patch. I’ve grown up in the club, I know the drill. When Kayla and I became best friends in the fourth grade, our dads had a talk. Their agreement was she’d come to the house, but never to the club, and there’d be no parties at our house when she’s over. She hasn’t been around ya’ll much at all. Her parents have met my prospect chauffeurs over the years, and they’re mostly chilled about it now, but they’ll need to meet you sometime this week.”
“Basically,” Kayla said from the backseat, “you’re our bitch now. You’re our ride when we need one, and you go get stuff we need, even if it’s tampons at two in the morning. You’ll carry our packages for us when we go shopping at the mall, and if we ask if our ass looks fat when we try on clothes, you’ll be honest and tell it to us straight from a guy’s perspective.”
“And not,” I added, my voice low and deep, “from my father’s viewpoint.” I held my wolf in, so I didn’t growl at him in front of Kayla. “I know you’re supposed to cock-block us, but I also know you can’t actually hurt any of the guys.” He held his hand up, thinking he could silence me, and I said, “Fuck you, asshole. I’ll talk when I fuckin’ want to.”
He pulled into a church parking lot, put the SUV into park, tossed his cellphone into the little compartment in the dash, and got out.
Bash might only be eighteen, but he wasn’t a boy. He paced like a caged animal and I realized he was on the edge. This wasn’t a wolf thing, though — it was something else. He moved with a lethal, fluid grace that set something inside me on fire, and I didn’t get out of the vehicle, knowing he’d smell it on me.
I’d had a crush on my prospect when I was twelve, and my dad had given me someone else and then hadn’t assigned anyone else who was my type, since. Brain had truly been like a big brother to me. I mean, I knew he was dangerous, all the men of the RTMC are, but to me, they mean safety. I’m their little sister, the president’s daughter, and they’ll all protect me with their life.
I instinctively knew Bash didn’t necessarily represent safety for me, though.
With his back to me, he said, “Out of the car, Princess. You and I need to have a talk without your friend hearing.”
My insides shook from the threat of violence in his voice, and I didn’t want to get out of the car. I reminded myself he couldn’t hurt me without risking my dad’s wrath, and felt my body chilling out. I couldn’t go outside smelling of fear — he’d eat me alive.
I heard him with my wolf hearing, but Kayla wouldn’t have a clue he’d spoken. I sighed and told her, “Stay here a sec. Maybe we pushed him too hard? I’m gonna go talk to him.”
“He’s kind of scary, Ang.”
“My dad wouldn’t have assigned someone who’d hurt us, Kayla. I’ll just go talk to him a second. It’ll be okay.”
As I got out of the car, I suddenly wasn’t so sure my dad wouldn’t have upped his game with my prospects. He and my mom had a huge argument last week, but she convinced him it was time he let me start double-dating with an early curfew. She’d successfully argued they had to let me take baby-steps and learn responsibility slowly, or I’d go wild when I went off to college without him around to supervise my every move. He’d finally agreed to it, but only if my prospect tagged along. It was more than I’d hoped for, but at the time I’d thought it’d be Brain.
As I got out, Bash said, “Leave your cellphone — and anything else with a battery — in the car.”
This was standard RTMC procedure when we wanted to make sure we weren’t recorded. Apparently, he was gonna say stuff my dad wouldn’t approve of. I tossed my phone onto the dashboard, turned the radio up a little, and told Kayla, “I’ll be back in a minute.”
I followed him off the parking lot pavement into grass, assuring myself all the while that my dad wouldn’t have sent someone likely to hurt me. Still, Bash was harsher than the other guys my dad had assigned me, and I needed to be careful with my strategy. As soon as I caught up to him, he said, “Here’s the way it’s gonna be, Princess. I may not be able to bash any of your boy-toys’ heads in with witnesses around, but that don’t mean I can’t do it later. You want ‘em to live? You make sure they stay on my good side. Nobody disrespects someone in the RTMC, not even a prospect.” His voice deepened, and I heard his wolf. “Second thing, is you may be under RTMC protection, but you’re a split tail, and that means you do what you’re told. You want me to show you respect? You show it to me. I’ll throw your words right back at ya — we can either get along, or not. I don’t give a flying fuck which you choose, Princess. You think you can make my life hell? You have no idea what I can do to yours.”
Yeah, this I could work with. I gave him a half smile and shrugged one shoulder. “Take a deep breath, Bash. You smell any fear comin’ off me?”
He took a whiff, shook his head, his eyes suddenly a touch uncertain.
“My dad stopped assigning me guys I could walk all over when I was about eight. He’s miscalculated a few times, though he quickly gave me someone new once he figured it out. So, I can’t boss you around — okay, I get it.” I offered my hand. “Truce?”
He shook his head. “No, Princess. No truce just yet. Let’s give it a couple of days, see where we stand then.”
About the Author:
Candace Blevins is a southern girl who loves to travel the world. She lives with her husband of 17 years and their two daughters. When not working or driving kids all over the place she can be found reading, writing, meditating, or swimming.
Candace writes BDSM Romance, Urban Fantasy, Paranormal Romance, and is currently writing a kick-ass Motorcycle Club series.
Her Safeword Series gives us characters who happen to have some extreme kinks. Relationships can be difficult enough without throwing power exchange into the mix, and her books show characters who care enough about each other to fight to make the relationship work. Each book in the Safeword series highlights a couple with a different BDSM issue to resolve.
Her urban fantasy series, Only Human, gives us a world where weredragons, werewolves, werelions, three different species of vampires, as well as a variety of other mythological beings exist.
Candace's two paranormal romance series, The Chattanooga Supernaturals and The Rolling Thunder Motorcycle Club, are both sister series to the Only Human series, and give some secondary characters their happily ever after.
You can visit Candace on the web at candaceblevins.com and feel free to friend her on Facebook at facebook.com/candacesblevins and Goodreads at goodreads.com/CandaceBlevins.
You can also join facebook.com/groups/CandacesKinksters to get sneak peeks into what she's writing now, images that inspire her, and the occasional juicy blurb.
Stay up to date on Candace’s newest releases, and get exclusive excerpts by joining her mailing list!
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