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About the author:
I grew up in rural North Carolina. After graduating from high school I went to North Carolina Central University. Due to my lack of discipline, I partied my way out of college and promptly went home and got pregnant with my daughter.
She died in a fire with my parents in 1998 and to deal with the grief I joined the Navy. Two years later I had a seizure when we were sailing near Turkey and was diagnosed with epilepsy which was aggravated by my job.
After leaving the Navy I simply couldn’t find a place to fit or anything that I wanted to do. About twelve years later I suffered a badly broken thigh-bone and had a lot of time to read. After having enough free time to read one book per day a friend said that I should write my own. My debut novel Web of Seduction is on sale February 10, 2019.
What inspired you to write your book?
I read romance for a very long time and one day a friend suggested I write my own. I began to dream and developed characters and a plot in my head. This book spent years in my mind before I decided to put it on paper.
Here is a short sample from the book:
“My name is Dominic Braxton. I’m just a normal guy, who lives a normal life. I like action movies, poker night with the fellas and a good lay now and then. I give women flowers and candy when I’m supposed to and treat them with respect.”
A throat clears in the dark room.
Now I’m aggravated. “Fuck it, I’m a goddamn criminal, half sex demon, and I destroyed the woman I loved. That’s my life!”
I smile deviously when the shadow belonging to the little nuisance sitting across from me jumps at the sound of my loud voice. I can’t see her face, but I’ll bet her eyes had nearly popped out of her blonde head.
The only lights in the pitch-black room were coming from a door to my far right and the bright bulb that blared from the camera propped on ‘Miss. Goody Two Shoes’ desk.
“Mr. Braxton there is a lot more to it than that, and can you please refrain from using that kind of language?”
“Fuck you.” How’s that for language?
But as miserable as I am, I had made a promise, this had to be done. I sigh in defeat and speak with as much fake cheer as I can muster.
Fine, let’s begin with my employment: Unless I’m buried balls-deep in pussy, my time is spent running my own criminal organization. The only difference between myself and other mafia bosses is instead of preying on the weak I shake down the rich and powerful.
A genius IQ and head for numbers have made me obscenely wealthy and one of the few men feared by the one percent. Everyone from diplomats to drug kingpins’ dances eagerly to my tune. I help them keep their wealth in the electronic age, but I can also take it away. Imagine a person who knows where the world’s richest people keep their funds and can access them at any time.
I have a supernatural intellect because I’m also a Cambion. A Cambion is any demon-human hybrid.
A long time ago, the Creator made the first man. Some of the Big Guy’s soldiers decided to make trouble. He then exiled the mutineers from the Eternal Lands and locked the little buggers in the Underworld, never to be free.
But who knew? They like to fuck! While the Exiled Ones remain securely imprisoned their kids, also known as demons, slip out when the earth gets indigestion and belches and farts the bastards out in the form of a bad volcano.
One of those crumb-snatchers who escaped was my father Matthias, an incubus. Dear old dad somehow fell in love with a Cherokee woman named Butterfly.
Her cunt must have been some powerful shit to make a damn demon fall in love because that ain’t normal pussy, people.
Now there’s a lot more to the story but I don’t have time to explain all that bullshit so just deal with it. My Grandpa is Satan. I for one, am glad I wasn’t left to bounce on his knee but that means I’m half sex demon and half human.
Anyway, being a Cambion means I have some cool extras that other males don’t. I’m stronger and faster than the average man. I have the power of sexual persuasion and can use it to carry out some pretty bad shit.
I’ve got a few weaknesses, but those will remain my secret for now.
Trust gets people killed and so does love. The probability of me falling in love was slim to none unless you count my bulletproof black Aston Martin Vanquish.
Nope, love was not in my DNA… until her.
My Sweet Thing. I drugged her and fed the cravings the addiction produced. She loved every minute of it until the monster came out, but by then it was too late.
I was the instrument of her destruction and knew exactly what she thought just before meeting her demise: she wished she had never laid eyes on me.
Too bad a woman can’t take back pussy.