Sunday, July 5, 2015

The Hunt by Daire St. Denis ♥ Spotlight & GIVEAWAY ♥ (Erotic Romantic Suspense)


Are you a fan of E.L. James, dying to read GREY from Christian's point of view? 

Why not try THE HUNT - a red hot story told from the hero’s perspective? Only $0.99 for a short time! This is the second edition of this book and contains BONUS SAMPLE MATERIAL at the end.

From USA Today and New York Times Bestselling Author, comes BOOK 10 in the SAVAGE SERIES, the red-hot, super sexy contemporary romance series featuring the one-of-a-kind, Tessa Savage.

Rhys Blackstone is an ex-military man with a secret. He’s spent the last two years hiding out on his estate in Napa...until today. Enter the woman he met two years ago--the woman he's never been able to forget. He's invited Tessa Savage to the estate in order to live out one of her all time favorite fantasies—of the hot and sexy variety. But hunting Tessa through the woods is sweet torture and Rhys can’t tell if this fantasy is the best thing that’s ever happened to him or his own personal version of hell.

This is the first book in the Savage Series that is told by the hero. It's a retelling of THE CHASE - A Wicked One Night Stand.

Recommended for a mature audience.
CHAPTER ONE


My finger hovers over the contact name in my phone.
Tessa Savage.
Fuck.
I touch the name on the screen.
Then I type, It's on, before I have a chance to change my mind. I exhale long and slow and hit send.
Behind my closed lids is the image of the woman I’d met in France. Small, blonde, hot. Not Barbie doll hot, but sexy in her own way. It’s hard to describe, probably because the woman likes sex and it shows; in the way she moves and talks. Her sexuality is like a perfume that surrounds her, something you can smell and taste when you’re near her.
And when I say the woman likes sex, I mean she fucking loves sex. Screams like a banshee in heat. I know because I fucked her. Hard. Best part was, she liked it and asked me to do it again, harder.
Then after, we laid in bed and she told me all these fucking fantasies. The woman is imaginative, that’s for sure. Fantasy after fantasy, like she spends a good part of her day dreaming this shit up. And they are not the typical vanilla fantasies I’ve heard from other women; they were things I wouldn’t even consider doing with a chick, not because I don’t want to, but because I’d be afraid she’d think I was a perv for wanting it.
But Tessa Savage? She’s the sweetest, sexiest, perviest woman I’ve ever met and while we both knew our time together in France was just an interlude—I was shipping out with the military and she was jetting off to some job in Asia—I knew I’d want to see her again. So, before I’d left her, I told her I’d text her and we’d play out one of her fantasy’s.
If she was game.
I glance around the bedroom where I’m hoping said fantasy will take place. There’s a dress, folded on the bed, and I pick it up, rubbing the material between my fingers. God damn. The dress is this white thing that’s going to make Tessa look like some goddamn virgin. The thought of her wearing it? Running in it? It sends a piercing pain right to my groin, the kind of pain only an instant hard-on can produce.
Beside the dress is a little pair of lacy white panties that I don’t dare pick up because the urge to wrap them around my fists and tear them in two is overpowering. I’ll save the panty ripping for when Tessa’s wearing them.
I can hear her voice in my head, a memory of the last time we were together. Kind of strangled sounding because I was fingering her—hard—and making her talk through it.
“There’s one where I’m being chased.”
“Chased?”
“Stalked.”
“What are you wearing?”
“A white dress, flowing skirts—I don’t know why—that’s the image I have in my mind. Something pretty. Easy to run in…rip-able…”
Of course, that was two years ago.
Instead of testing the dress for rip-ability—as per my urge—I check my phone instead.
Shit.
No answer.
Well, a lot can change in two years. Tessa didn’t talk a whole helluva a lot about her work, but I know she travels all the time, so chances are she’s on the other side of the world and is fast asleep. Maybe she’s moved on or settled down or she changed her number after meeting one too many assholes on the road. Maybe I’m one of those assholes and the last thing she wants is to hear from me.
Fuck it.
I send my location and type, You've got 24 hours, and then head downstairs to pour myself a drink.

***
The cameras I have set up are not just to alert me to Tessa’s arrival. They’re for security. I like to keep people out. For their safety as much as for mine. But twenty-one hours later, there’s an alert on my phone, one of the cameras out by the front of the buildings of the estate has picked up movement. I tap on the camera app and see her car, parking beside the old winery buildings. She sits in the driver seat for a good couple of minutes before stepping out.
The image is tiny, black and white, but it doesn’t matter, just the sight of her, the fact she’s here, that she came and is willing to play.
Fuck.
>Not Bad, Tessa Savage. Still three hours to spare.< I can see her in the parking lot, hand to forehead, searching.
>Follow the steps up to the house. The door is open. On the second floor is a room with the door ajar. Go there and wait for instructions< She stands there. Not moving and I’m suddenly impatient. >You have five minutes to comply< I see her lean against the door of her car.
>This will be the last communication you will get from me< It’s a gamble. A risky one, because the last thing I want is for her to leave. My raging hard-on isn’t in the mood to be abandoned. But I need her to know who’s boss. >Four minutes< She moves. Quickly popping the trunk and taking out a bag before rushing up the walk to the villa. Good. >Two minutes< I type. I switch the mode on my camera app so I can see three cameras on one screen, so I can observe tiny little Tessa come in the front door, up the stairs and slowly down the hall before entering the bedroom I’d designed for her. She pauses in the doorway, probably expecting to find me there. Of course I’m not. That’s not how this fantasy works. She makes her way to the balcony and goes to check out the view. This room has one of the nicest views of the mountains, the pond, the old vineyard. It’s good she’s taking a look and getting the lay of the land. She’s going to need it. >You cut that close.<
>There are clothes laid out on the bed. Put them on.<
>Do as you’re told and you’ll find out< She makes her way to the bed and picks up the dress. Does it ring a bell for her? Does she know which fantasy we’re going to play? Is she remembering what she said as she holds the dress up against herself? Well, the fact that she’s dropping clothes is a pretty good indication she’s game. Maybe I shouldn’t watch her strip but I don’t care. It’s been too long since I’ve seen her naked. She turns at the last second, so I only catch sight of her nice, round ass, before she steps into the little panties and then pulls the dress over her head. There are all these pearl buttons that run up the front and it takes her fucking forever to do them up. You can bet that’s not how they’re coming undone. Then she goes to stand in front of the mirror and runs her hands up and down her body. I don’t think she’s doing it for my benefit, I think she’s doing it because she actually likes the way her body feels. Sexy as fucking hell. I’m tempted to walk down the hall, burst into the room, throw her on the bed and fuck her until she screams. But I don’t. How I have this much self control is a miracle, all things considered. I’m about to text her about the envelope with the ear bud inside, sitting on the dressing table, but before I have a chance, she notices it all on her own. I open the app and turn the buds on, placing mine in my ear at the same time she puts hers in her ear. “Hello, Tessa.” “Hi Rhys,” she whispers. “I’m glad you came.” “Where are you?” “Nearby.” “Let me see you.” “No.” She pauses. “Why?” “It’s your fantasy. Don’t you remember describing it for me?” “Yes.” She presses a hand to her chest. “But, I didn’t think—” “I’d remember? Of course I remember.” She collapses on the edge of the bed, like the reality of what we’re about to do is just sinking in. “Every room and building on the property is open to you. There’s an electric fence that skirts the seven hundred acres of land so you’ll know the boundaries…if you get that far. There are plenty of places to hide.” “Rhys…” my name trails off and I hear her take a ragged breath. “I’m giving you a twenty minute head start. I suggest you run.” CHAPTER TWO She sits on the edge of the bed, staring at the wall. What the hell is she doing? Suddenly she gets up and runs from the room, I scroll to the next camera and see her practically tripping down the stairs. Is she leaving? Shit. Then she stops. Stands in the foyer and looks up at the dome as if she knows I’m watching. “If you don’t run,” I say, nice and clear. “This will be a very short fantasy.” “But you can see me.” She turns a circle in the foyer, arms stretched out. “Where am I supposed to go? You’re watching my every move.” “I can only see you in and around the house and only while I’m here. Once you leave and once I follow, we will be left to our own devices.” She continues to stare up. Does she know there’s a camera in the dome? Does she realize she’s staring directly into it? “If you don’t want this, Tessa, say it now. Get in your car and leave. No hard feelings.” Finally she turns, but she doesn’t run, just stares at the door. “If this is what you want,” I say quietly. “If you want to live out this fantasy with me…then, the longer you stand there, the less time you have to hide.” Time stands still as I watch her, watching the door. Like she’s waiting for some kind of sign. I don’t give it to her. She’s got to make the call all on her own. After one last glance at the dome, she runs. Fuck me. The effect is immediate. The predator in me bristles, primed for action. I jump to my feet, never taking my eyes off the screen. Where will she go? Is she heading back to her car, or…is she ready to play? I scroll through the camera app to include those outside the villa. Tessa does not head to the parking lot, she follows the walk up around the north side of the house where there’s a path leading into the forest. Perfect. The idea of stalking Tessa through the woods, hunting her, is almost too much to bear and I have to control myself from chasing her right fucking now. She’s still got seventeen minutes to run, to hide, to do whatever she feels she needs to do before I set off on my hunt for her. Fuck, let’s be honest, I’m not hunting the woman, I’m hunting her cunt. That pretty little pussy of hers—so fucking sweet. I put my phone away and go to my balcony, watching her disappear down a path, though every once in a while I catch sight of the white dress through the trees. I don’t have cameras in the forest but I know the paths that criss-cross the low mountains and have a pretty good idea where she’s headed. The seventeen minutes tick by way too slowly but finally it’s time. “Ready or not,” I say, before turning away from the view and heading downstairs. I don’t hurry, what’s the point? I want her to think she’s got a chance, which she totally does not. I know this land like the back of my hand and even before the military I wasn’t a half bad tracker. Walking along the same path around the house that Tessa took, I say, “What are you going to do, Tessa? Hide in the forest or keep running.” She doesn’t answer but I can hear the sound of her panting breaths. Soft with a few little grunts mixed in. “Should I tell you what I’m going to do to you once I catch you?” “If,” she says in between pants. “If you catch me.” I laugh. She’s a good sport. I love it. “When I catch you, Tessa Savage. When.” She’s breathing louder now, like the thought of me catching her is exciting her. Or, scaring her. I’m not going to lie, both reactions are a turn on. “I will catch you. You know that, right?” She’s moving again. I can hear the sound of twigs snapping and her breath is labored as she moves which means she’s left the path and is trying to make her way through the underbrush. It won’t be easy going in that dress she’s wearing. Holy fuck, that dress. I stop, close my eyes and picture her. I picture myself grabbing the skirts. “Once I’ve caught you, I’ll immobilize you.” “What does that mean?” she whispers, an element of fear clear in her wavering voice. I picture myself cuffing her hands behind her back, blindfolding her. “I’ll take you to a special place. Somewhere I can enjoy you at my leisure.” I imagine bending her over the counter. “Take you, just the way I want you.” Her response is a squeak. Not scared. Terrified. “You want this, right Tessa?”


    


With a degree in archaeology, Daire St. Denis was sure she was destined to be the next female Indiana Jones. That didn’t quite pan out but she still managed her fair share of exotic adventures. Some of her most daring escapades include, skydiving in Canada, being trapped in the Great Pyramid of Giza, searching for tigers in the foothills of the Himalayas, touring Germany by motorbike, scuba diving off the coast of the Philippines, meeting Medusa in the bowels of Istanbul and climbing her way to the top of a number of mountains and crags in Canada and the US.

Daire loves to pen erotic tales full of passion and unexpected adventure and her colorful past has provided ample inspiration for her muse. She now lives in the wilds of Canada with her two poorly trained dogs, two insufferable cats, two spirited children and one extremely patient husband.


    

Win an eCopy of The Hunt!
***Please note: This prize is being provided and is authorized by Maxwell Author Services***

@DaireStDenis http://goo.gl/o0HE2a pic.twitter.com/wF4zVFRjIS

No comments :

Post a Comment

♥ Thank You for Your Comment! (It means more than you know) Good Luck in the Giveaway! ♥