Overall Series Blurb
The N’awlins Exotica/Paranormal series
The city of New Orleans is rich in tradition, diverse, and known for the inspiration it provides. In the “Big Easy” there lies the hunger for the erotic as well as the unknown. The residents here feel that sexual energy and it reveals itself through their various creative activities.
Join the characters as they take a wild ride on the edge, enjoying their town for all it has to offer. There’s a certain magic in the air, an erotic magic that cannot be ignored.
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New Orleans is supposed to be the big easy. One night changes everything for Frankie Choteau.
New Orleans. A city rich in tradition, diversity, and on the comeback trail from hurricane Katrina. Francois “Frankie” Choteau, a resident of this town, a cop with a hot temper and low tolerance for bs. Kajika Fortier, a transplant from Oklahoma came here looking for a dream and unfortunately it’s turned into a nightmare. On a hot summer night, they meet and cross paths during a very difficult situation. Despite this, the attraction between them is evident and loneliness for both men is a fate worse than death. They’d both like a chance at happiness but will the circumstances and Frankie’s uneasiness prevent their happy ever after?
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“Damn!” Francois Choteau yelled at the top of his lungs. His favorite coffee cup—the one that read ‘My job is to find the killer’—slipped from his tight grip. It was his mother’s last gift to him before her passing. She always knew exactly what to get him for Christmas.
“Ah, Frankie, can’t you do anything without dropping stuff? Ya klutz!” Kenina Porter rushed to his side. She bumped him with her large frame as she attempted to assist him in the cleanup.
“Damn, woman, you’re dressing kind of sexy these days. Who you going after?” Frankie noticed the low-cut black blouse underneath the same color blazer showed ample pale cleavage.
“Someone who works here with me and claims to play for the other team.” Kenina wrinkled her lips. Her nasally New York accent came out whenever something angered her. “You’re lucky this didn’t break into a million pieces, Frankie. Your mama might’ve came out of the grave haunting your ass!”
Frankie grinned and tilted his head to the side. “You’re right about that, Kenie. My mama always gave me grief about having butta fingers. Wasn’t really my fault, though. It’s hot as hell in this mother! My hands feel like they been drenched in water!” Frankie wiped his brow and sighed. The air conditioner was running full blast, but it didn’t seem to do a thing about the summer heat in New Orleans. Temps in the low hundreds and high humidity made living in the Big Easy practically unbearable.
“Yeah, it is, but you still drinking hot coffee.” She grimaced and shook her head. “Not even iced, Frankie!” She dropped paper towels on the floor and smeared them over the spilled beverage. While toeing the rags with her heel, she handed Frankie his most prized possession.
Frankie set it inside his desk, out of harm’s way. “I got to, baby. It’s the only thing keeping me awake. We been working on this fucking Metairie murder case nonstop for over a month with no damn leads. Nobody’s talking so we can bring these fuckers to justice.”
“Nope.” Kenina nodded and knelt to pick up the trash from the floor. “Be more careful with your drink next time, man. Leslie just scrubbed these floors, and you know she’ll curse you out in her native tongue if she finds out you spilled something.”
“Yeah, I know.” Frankie rubbed the nape of his neck, attempting to get out the kinks. Homicide cases were piling up quicker than detectives could keep count, especially since the precinct was located in the middle of a crime hotbed. Due to the amount of work and the low pay, most detectives moved on to another line of investigation or left altogether, but not Frankie and his partner Kenina, who’d started at the police academy together. They’d been through thick and thin for the past ten years. Frankie considered the redheaded vixen to be his best friend, his girlfriend, and at times the momma he didn’t have. Kenina Porter showed more loyalty than any man he’d ever had and he’d always stick by her side.
“Well, yeah, you know, but…” She stood with her hands on her hips. “You still aren’t being all that careful.”
“I was, woman!” Frankie frowned in her direction and propped his feet up on the corner of his desk. “You right, you right, I’m a klutz but I’ll have you know, I’m tired as hell, ain’t fucked anyone in over three months and, on top of that, I’m not getting a lot of sleep!”
“Shhh!” Kenina glanced from left to right and scolded him for being so loud. “What the fuck’s wrong with you, Frankie! You wanna get found out? You can’t say shit without people calling you on it in this department.”
Frankie waved his hand. “I know, Kenie, I’m just…” Frankie leaned back and blew raspberries. His head slipped down from the top of the chair and tears welled up in his eyes. “I’m so tired of hiding, babe. It’s hard being...” Frankie mouthed gay. “And not able to tell the people you work with.”
“Well, you could, but it might be more trouble than it’s worth. I don’t mind keeping up the charade for you, love. You know you my boy and I’d do anything for you!” Kenina sat on the edge of the desk and stroked his shoulder.
“I appreciate that, Kenie, I really do. Too bad you ain’t got the right equipment, woman, because I’d date you for real!”
Mon Frere, My True Love N’awlins Exotica Paranormal #1
Blurb: Twin vamps Ryland and Ryder Durand are only different in personality while the rest is exactly the same. Ryland, the author is calm and conservative while Ryder the club owner is wild and lewd. However, the brothers share the same dark desire and haven’t informed one another. Will that bring them closer together or sever their relationship for all eternity?
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‘To Louis One Cemetery I shall return, away from the fray of humans, looking to make a mockery of me, fawning over my body as if I were some kind of celebrity. Damn these people, damn them all to hell! In time, I shall see to it they meet the so called Maker much earlier than they expected.’
Ryland tapped the keys for the last words of his latest story and leaned back in the leather recliner, content with his work. “Brilliant. Just in time to post the latest installment before the weekend,” he sighed to himself and clicked the “x” button to close the window on his laptop screen. Satisfied with his work for the evening, he glanced at the clock in the corner and noticed he’d been writing for the last four hours straight, with no breaks.
Just one of the many benefits of being an immortal.
Ryland smiled to himself and gripped the golden chalice containing blood from his latest kill. He sniffed it first, allowing it to fill his nostrils before putting it to his lips. Type AB, excellent. Though he hated the being he’d become, he couldn’t deny the sweet taste of fresh blood from a human. After taking one sip, the warmth trickled down his throat, sending tiny bits of adrenaline to his nipples, making them pebble underneath his shirt. The slow burn settled in his chest, making him gasp. Immediately after, his groin stirred in his trousers, causing him to squirm uncomfortably in the chair. Ryland closed his eyes and held the chalice tightly, savoring every little bit of his victim’s blood. He sat it down and stared at it, admiring the tiny gems on the container.
Something about a young man’s blood, better than any other.
Ryland hadn’t been happy about his brother’s choice of existence nor the decision he made on Ryland’s behalf, but they were young and Ryder, who’d always been the most immature one, did what he thought was best so they’d survive. Besides, they’d spent the majority of their early childhood without a mother and father and only each other to lean on. Such a horrible fate for two young boys, still growing up and learning the ways of the world. Perhaps it was best to be taken under the wing of a vamp to be taught things from the other side. At least they had one person to guard and watch over them in the early stages of their lives.
When thinking about his parents, a small tear ran from Ryland’s eye down to the base of his cheek. Despite all of what he’d seen, he’d never forget that awful day when their world was torn apart during the Natchez War in the early 1700’s.
* * * *
A log cabin at White Apple, in Mississippi, late 1723
“Ryland, don’t cry. We will all be together.” Ryland’s mother Jean held him close to her firm bosom and caressed his head. “Take care of your younger brother. You must be strong like your papa!”
Ryland continued to wail and his younger brother stood in silence with his father. After Jean and Jacque Durand kissed them, both parents shoved the young boys into a door underneath the floor of their cabin so they wouldn’t be captured by anyone and taken into slavery.
“Shhh… Ryland, we must be quiet if we’re not to get caught,” Ryder whispered to his older brother, older by only minutes.
Still upset, Ryland sniffed and wiped his eyes, wanting so badly to be by his parents’ side. Something told him they wouldn’t be together as their mother had promised though he hoped he was wrong about his inclination.
Ryland and Ryder held one another when they heard heavy footsteps over their heads. Ryland shuddered and covered his own mouth and his brother’s.
It must be the French!
“Vous là-bas, femme! Venez ici maintenant! Est-il votre mari, cet indien?” (You there, woman! Come here now! Is this Indian your husband?)
Ryland and Ryder closed their eyes tightly. Ryland himself prayed to the gods above, hoping they would save their parents from harm.
In moments, the twins jumped when they heard two gunshots ring out.
“Nooo… vous l'avez tué,vous devez me tuer aussi!” (You killed him, you must kill me too!) They heard their mother’s loud crying and then heard rumbles and laughter from the Frenchmen mocking her.
They’ve shot my father and now they’re taking my mother! How could you, oh great one? Why didn’t you save them as I asked?
Ryland wept in silence as did his brother, who held him tighter against his chest.
Now what would become of them with their father dead and their mother in captivity?
BIO: Michael Mandrake pens complex characters who are already comfortable in their sexuality. Thorough these characters, he builds worlds not centered on erotica but rather the mainstream plots we might encounter in everyday life through personal experiences or the media. To find out more please visit http://tabooindeed.blogspot.com.
Michael’s Blog http://tabooindeed.blogspot.com
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