Bound by Blood: Oriana’s Curse by Tracey H. Kitts

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About the author:

T.K. Hardin is the name she uses for her erotic horror stories.

What inspired you to write your book?

A love of vampires, werewolves, and hairy chests. Oh, and dragons.

Here is a short sample from the book:

Chapter One
The night was cold, the woods were dark, and I was scared out of my mind. Still, this was my idea. Reminding myself that I was out there of my own free will only made me wonder about my mental state. So, what the hell was I doing there, right? I suppose it all started when I found out Max was a werewolf.
Max is my neighbor. His house is separated from mine by a small stretch of woods. The moon was nearly full and tonight I was hoping to get a look at him. Naturally, I’ve seen him before; we’ve met. It was my fascination with what he might become, not what he appeared to be that intrigued me. I know that sounds crazy, but I’ve always been fascinated by the macabre. Werewolves in particular interested me, even before they made their existence public.
A hairy chest gets me going like I can’t explain. And if you can do one of those “Jack Nicholson growls”, then you’re speaking my language. There’s something so powerful and sexy about a man who is part animal. Especially, one who is strong enough to control the beast.
I double-checked the silver amulet around my neck, my silver belt buckle and my silver bracelet before going any farther. Sure, I was taking a risk, but that didn’t mean I was entirely stupid. I was also carrying a .38-revolver stuffed down the back of my jeans. Yeah, it was loaded with silver bullets. My goal was just to observe Max, but I was prepared if things turned ugly. At least, I thought I was.
He’d been my neighbor for a couple of months now and I really liked him. He was hot as hell and had one of those rough, sexy voices that I just couldn’t resist. When I mentioned him to my friend, Lori, she decided to do a search for his name online. “You know, just to make sure he didn’t move here to escape murder charges or anything,” she joked.
What she found was his name listed on the local Lycan Registry. Maybe it’s because I live in a small town and there isn’t much excitement around here. Either way, I was very interested to know that Cherry, Florida had its first official werewolf. I didn’t want to exploit him or take pictures or anything like that. I just wanted to get a look. You know, see if he would transform in the moonlight or something like that.
I approached his house as quietly as possible, doing my best to avoid any crunchy-looking leaves or branches that might give me away. His porch light was on and when I looked in that direction, I saw him.
Max is around six-foot-three with long, wavy brown hair that most women would kill for. He was drinking something, maybe coffee, and looking better in jeans than anyone had a right to. He was propped against the door rather than sitting in the chair beside him. A small tray sat on the table next to the chair. He reached toward the tray and added a lump of sugar to whatever he was drinking.
It was early October and the weather was already cold, especially for Florida. Despite this, Max was wearing a sleeveless black shirt. The material hugged his muscular frame, revealing every curve. My God, he was gorgeous. His tanned skin glowed a light bronze underneath the light and as I stood there, freezing, I imagined how warm he must be.
He finished his drink and licked his full lips before putting the cup aside. He stretched his arms wide, arching his back a little and making every muscle along his arms ripple with the motion. The muscles down low in my stomach clenched in response. I tried to control my breathing. As I understood it, werewolves could hear very well. But I was excited and I probably didn’t do such a great job.
Max walked down the steps, slowly. Every move he took had the grace of a dancer. And he was barefoot. When he reached the bottom step he pulled off his shirt, throwing it backward onto the porch. What was he doing? Was he getting ready to transform?
He moved several feet forward into the moonlight. Max looked just as good from the back as he did the front. I was admiring the muscular dimples just above the waist of his jeans when he said, “Why don’t you come on out?”
When I hesitated he growled and I jumped, giving away my position if he hadn’t already known exactly where I was.
He laughed softly. “It’s all right. I’m not going to eat you.”
I stepped out of the bushes and moved to stand in front of him. My heart was racing, but the smile on his face emboldened me. I couldn’t resist commenting on his last remark.
“Well, that’s a damn shame.”
“Is that right, Nicki?” He took a step toward me and his brown eyes slowly bled to amber. I could feel the heat rising from his skin. “Are you sure you want me to eat you?”
I tried to laugh, but it came out more as a moan.
“I can hear your heart, fluttering like a captured bird. If I frighten you so much, why are you here?”
“I wanted to see you.”
He moved even closer and my knees nearly gave way. I breathed deeply of his scent. I’m not sure how to describe how he smelled. It was a mixture of fresh air, cologne, and a wonderful musk that could only be described as “werewolf.” I could feel my body responding. My nipples hardened almost to the point of pain and my panties were nearly soaked.
“You mean you wanted to see what a werewolf looks like up close?” He sounded wounded and that was never my intention.
“No. Well, yes. But I didn’t mean any harm. I’ve always wanted to know what it would be like …”
My words trailed off as I reached out and put my hand flat against his chest.
“You’re burning up.”
His smile was devastating. “You’re not so bad yourself.”
“No, I mean you’re really burning up.”
He laughed. “I always run hotter this close to the full moon.”
He bent down, almost close enough to kiss. “I never meant to insult you, Max. I was just curious.”
He brushed across my lips, running his face over mine like a cat. When he growled close to my ear I shivered.
“Take off the silver and I’ll show you anything you want to see.”
“Anything?”
I reached for him again and he prompted, “Take off the silver.”
I took off the amulet, dropped the bracelet, and removed my belt. When I sat the revolver on the ground he raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure you only wanted to look?”
“I was afraid you might eat me,” I joked.
Max reached for me and when I took his hand he pulled me close. “I think that’s what you came for.”
Surely he didn’t mean—?
Max covered my lips with his, opening my mouth with his tongue. He tasted like coffee and cinnamon. I moaned, arching against him. Maybe he was right. I’d wanted him since he first moved in, laid awake at night imagining what it would feel like to touch him. Maybe I had come here for more than just a look.
I could feel how close he was to losing control; it was evident in his posture and the tension in his arms. He moved down my throat, burning me with the heat from his kisses before moving lower, over my collarbone, and my breasts. When he reached the top of my jeans he gave them a tug with his teeth before unbuttoning them, and sliding them to my feet.
I stepped out of my shoes and let him finish removing my jeans, along with my panties. I wasn’t sure what he would do next and my heart was beating so wildly I felt dizzy. Max swept me into his arms and carried me onto the porch.
“Sit down,” he said, motioning toward the chair.
I did as he instructed and he knelt before me, spreading my legs with the backs of his hands.
“Relax,” he said, his voice deepened by desire. “This won’t hurt.”
I had no objection as he spread my legs wider. He hooked his hands behind my knees and slid me closer to the edge of the chair. My heart was pounding with anticipation. But instead of going for my already aching pussy, he placed his lips against the inside of my thigh.
He licked and sucked at the tender skin and I quivered, begging him to move higher.
“Please, Max, please.”
He moved slowly, agonizingly up my inner thigh. I could feel him smiling as he pressed his lips against my skin nipping me lightly with his fangs. I hadn’t even realized his canine teeth were growing until he pulled back and smiled at me again. I had always associated fangs with vampires; however, when they transformed werewolves had them too. Seeing this probably should have frightened me, but sick bitch that I am (according to Lori), it turned me on.
“What exactly did you want me to do again?” he teased.
“You’re awful.”
He laughed softly. “Tell me what you came here for.”
I felt a rush of excitement at his demanding words. He wanted to hear me say it? Having to spell out my explicit desires to Max was almost as much of a turn on as watching him smile.
“I want you to eat my pussy.”
In an instant he obeyed my command. The erotic image of his head between my thighs was almost more than I could take. I reached down to run my fingers through his hair, using the leverage to grind against his face. His tongue plunged between my lips causing a tremor of pleasure to run through my body. But when he moved to my clit I almost came off the chair. He pulled the soft flesh into his mouth, sucking at my clit, moaning as he shook his head back and forth, tugging the skin and bringing me closer and closer to orgasm.
Not only was he not joking when he threatened to eat me, he was damn good at it. His broad shoulders were the only thing that kept my legs from clamping shut as I trembled. I could feel the tension building in my lower back and spreading down my thighs.
“Yes, right there!”
He slid one long finger inside me, moaning once more as he tugged my clit into his mouth. That was enough. My back arched off the chair as I came. The vibration of his growl echoed through my body as he held me tight. When I arched from the chair his hands moved to my ass, lifting me and holding my pussy against his mouth, a prisoner to his amazing tongue. My muscles contracted so hard, I don’t know how he kept my legs apart. I felt the pleasure ripple through my abs, rolling my body like a wave as I ground my pussy even harder into his face.
When he finally released me I collapsed to the chair, covered in sweat and aching for more.
“Now,” he said, “being eaten by a wolf wasn’t so bad, was it?”
“No, it was—“
I was going to say “great,” but about that time I saw headlights coming up his driveway and what came out was,”shit.”
Max looked startled by my response and I couldn’t help but laugh. I pointed in the direction of the lights.
“Oh, shit,” Max said.
We both ran for my pants, but he got there first and handed them to me.
“I thought werewolves were supposed to be able to sense when someone was near,” I teased.
His low growl brought my attention away from locating my shoes and back to his gorgeous face.
“I was distracted,” he said.
I offered him a smile as I snatched on my jeans.
“I have no idea who that is, but you don’t have to leave.”
“That’s kind of you, Max, but I really do need to go.” I stuffed my panties into my pocket as I explained, “This is a small town, and there is a good chance that whoever is in that vehicle knows me.”
He looked defeated. “And you don’t want to be seen with a werewolf.”
“No,” I said, waving my hands as if to block out that thought. I glanced back at the approaching car, grateful that his driveway was long. “That’s not what I meant. It’s after midnight and I can’t explain my presence here.”
His subtle smirk was charming. “A grown woman shouldn’t have to explain her presence at a man’s house.”
Clearly he hadn’t gotten used to the town of Cherry yet. While I agreed wholeheartedly with his response, saying something like that would only stir up more gossip. I put my hands on my hips, my impatience obvious.
Max laughed and the sound made me shiver.
“I’d forgotten how nosy small towns can be. You should hurry if you want to avoid being the topic of tomorrow’s new gossip. I’ll catch up with you later,” he said.
He flashed me another wolfish grin as I took off through the woods. I considered sticking around in the woods to see who his late-night visitor might be, but immediately thought better of it. What if they were a werewolf also and detected my presence? Besides, Max’s visitors were none of my business.
I was halfway home when I realized I’d left my gun, along with several other things in Max’s yard. Surely, he would notice before whoever was in that car drove over them. Could he touch my silver amulet and bracelet to move them?
These were the thoughts running through my head, along with many others, as I approached the house.
“Did I really just let a werewolf go down on me?” This was the thought most prevalent in my mind.
My knees were still weak from the encounter and my skin felt flushed with arousal. What would have happened if we weren’t interrupted?
I had never been shy about what I wanted. However, I’d never been an outright slut either. I certainly never let someone go down on me the first time we were alone together. What had come over me?
The first thing I saw when I emerged from the woods was a big, black motorcycle parked near the tree line. It was near enough to me that I could feel the heat still coming from its tail pipes. Whoever was at my house hadn’t been there long.
I almost went back to get my gun or Max, or both. Curiosity made me take a step closer to the house. Once I was completely in the open, I saw her. A woman was reclining on my front porch swing. She looked to be about my height (5’ 5” or so), was dressed entirely in black leather, and had hair that was shorter and redder than mine. That’s saying something in both instances. I keep my hair in a short shaggy pixie cut and it’s flaming red. Hers was spiked straight up.
She didn’t look like a murdering psychopath. Maybe I wouldn’t need a gun after all.
“Who are you and why are you on my porch?” I asked. Even though the question was very blunt, I tried to keep my tone light. I didn’t see the need to cause offense unnecessarily.
She turned in my direction, but didn’t get up. There was amusement in her expression. “My name is Elaina, and I’ve been waiting for you.”
She had a slight British accent and her name didn’t ring any bells.
“Do I know you?” I asked, still trying to sound polite.
“You are Nicole Austin, are you not?”
“I am.”
“Then I am your godmother, Elaina Birch.”
I took a step closer, still wary of the new arrival. I thought I was entitled to a little caution. It isn’t every day that a British redhead clad in black leather shows up claiming to be my godmother.
“I don’t mean to sound rude, but I wasn’t aware I had a godmother.”
She shrugged. “You’re probably not aware that you’re a vampire slayer either. But don’t worry, that’s why I’m here.”