Brothers of the Absinthe Club 2
Note: Each book is written to stand alone and can be
read out of sequence.
Watch a video of Brothers of the Absinthe Club!
The Bloodstone Affair
Siren: All-Time Bestseller
List
Fictionwise: Highest-Rated
Bestseller
A dark presence that can't be ignored…
Bloodstone Manor is the most infamous haunted house in
England, a place where ancient legends and old mysteries
linger amid cold walls. Gavin St. John makes his life's
work ferreting out the secrets of the restless dead.
Summoned to Yorkshire, the last thing he expects to find
is the woman of his dreams.
Carlotta Stone is frightened by the inexplicable
happenings in her home, but powerless to stop them. When
the handsome Mr. St. John arrives, she is immediately
drawn into an old drama where two lovers seek to reunite
by the use of the notorious ghost hunter—and herself—at
least their bodies. The lingering passion she experiences
in his arms is just exactly what has been missing from her
life.
But danger lurks in the form of a malevolent evil that has
not forgotten a betrayal that spans time and human
suffering…
Sensuality Rating:
SIZZLING
Genre: Historical Paranormal
Length: Novella (26,000 words) |
![THE BLOODSTONE AFFAIR [Brothers of the Absinthe Club 2] by Emma Wildes](ew-tba3.jpg)
Larger Cover Image
Cover
Art by Jinger Heaston
THE BLOODSTONE AFFAIR
Brothers of the
Absinthe Club 2
ISBN: 1-933563-80-X
E-book $3.99

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REVIEWS
for The Bloodstone Affair [Brothers of
the Absinthe Club 2]
5 Hearts:
"This book is so masterfully written, I
still get chills up and down my spine when
I think about it. Whether it is from the
sex alone, yes it was that good, or
partially due to the macabre elements of
the plot, I cannot tell. The plot is
chillingly delicious with some surprise
elements and lots of twists and turns to
insure the reader cannot take their eyes
from the pages. Our hero, Gavin St. John,
has all the attributes a woman hopes for
in her man; considerate, polite, handsome,
and so sexy that our heroine felt an
immediate attraction even though she’d
never felt one before. Carlotta, the
dowager duchess, is strong, sensible
minded and very beautiful. Aunt Lillian,
the late duke’s aunt, thought they would
make the perfect couple, if they lived
through the spectral events brewing at
Bloodstone Manor. This book deserves the
highest praise. If you enjoy a good ghost
story or are a fan of erotic romantic
suspense, this book is for you." —Karen
H., The Romance Studio
5 Blue Ribbons:
"Right from the start I was intrigued
by the characters and fascinated by the
history of the various ghosts of
Bloodstone Manor. Each scene adds a new
level of tension and excitement that had
me enthralled in the storyline and
anticipating what would happen next. The
lovers who are using Gavin and Carlotta to
reunite will touch readers' hearts almost
as much as their hosts budding romance.
Emma Wildes has created a series that will
have readers eagerly awaiting each new
addition to this thrilling series." —Chrissy
Dionne, Romance Junkies
4.5 Kisses:
"Once again, Emma Wildes transports
her readers back in time to an era in
which women were ladies and men were
strong and noble. With an enticing
combination of wry humor, romance,
mystery, suspense, intrigue, and horror,
The Bloodstone Affair had me
guessing from one page to the next, trying
to figure out what was going to happen,
breathless until the very end. The first
two of six books in the Brothers of the
Absinthe Club series (Arabian Pearl
and The Bloodstone Affair) are so
different yet tied together so skillfully
that they spotlight Emma Wildes’ talent
and leaving me desperately looking forward
to the next four books in this exciting
series!" —Kerin, Two Lips Reviews
"The men of the Absinthe Club return to
share their most erotic memories and
Gavin's story raises the bar among this
group of friends. Unusual settings are
fast becoming a hallmark of this
intriguing series from Emma Wildes, and
Carlotta and Gavin's courtship is a prime
example of that. There is no typical ton
courtship for these two as they share
their bodies with the ghostly Brenna and
Malcolm. Their unusual problem creates an
instant intimacy between Gavin and
Carlotta that is totally believable and
supremely sensual. The storyline has an
addictive gothic twist with its malevolent
spirits and lovelorn ghosts and readers
will find themselves riveted to the very
end to find out what happens with all the
characters involved…both living and dead.
The Bloodstone Affair is an
excellent addition to a fascinating
series." —Isabelle Spencer, RRT
Erotic
The excerpt
or excerpts
below contain
explicit adult language and sexual content.
By
reading any further, you are stating that you are at
least 18 years of age. If you are under the age of
18, it is necessary to exit this site.
___________________________________________
Copyright © 2008
All rights reserved, Siren Publishing, Inc. Cannot be reproduced in whole or in part in any form without expressly permitted to do so in writing from the
publisher.
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STORY AND ADULT EXCERPT
Wandering over to her dressing table, Carlotta
picked up her brush and began to run it through her waist
length dark hair, abstractly looking in the mirror. Her maid
had only been gone a few moments when the door opened behind
her, and she turned, certain Annie had forgotten something.
But it wasn’t the young Irish girl in her neat
uniform. Instead, Gavin St. John came into the room without so
much as knocking, and when he closed the door behind him, he
also turned the key in the lock. Too startled to be outraged,
Carlotta froze, her brush in hand. “Sir, what…what are you
doing?”
Wearing only boots, fitted breeches that clung
to his long legs, and a white shirt that was open to show the
gleam of a well-muscled chest, he looked very different from the
smooth, well-mannered man who had sat across from her at dinner
just an hour before. His blue gaze glittered with something that
was decidedly not polite courtesy, and he didn’t say a word but
took his time in thoroughly examining what he could see of her
body through her thin night rail.
Carlotta flushed under that intense, wholly
male scrutiny, suddenly trembling. “Mr. St. John,” she said,
striving for a calm, no-nonsense tone, “please leave. This is
improper and if you have a question, we can discuss it in the
morning.”
“I’ve no questions, lass. I’ve not come to
talk to ye.”
Though she hadn’t been frightened before, the
sound of the soft brogue—in
St. John’s voice but spoken completely
differently than his usual cultivated diction—made her suddenly
go cold. “Gavin?” she said shakily, staring at him.
A low laugh rang out. “I’m afraid the
gentleman in question can’t answer you, lass.” He seemed to look
past her and his smile faded, replaced by something more
forceful. He said softly, “Come, Brenna. I wait for you.”
To her horror, it felt like something moved, a
quiver behind her shoulder that made her whirl in alarm. For a
split second, she saw something in the mirror, a vague outline
of a female form with flowing blond hair. She felt heat pouring
through her body, the effect not precisely unpleasant, but
infinitely disturbing. Carlotta gasped, feeling as if she were
falling down a well, and when she swayed she found a pair of
strong arms came around her to lift and hold her against a warm,
hard body. Helplessly, she gazed into Gavin St. John’s azure
eyes and realized whoever held her was not the man she had met
that day.
Nor was she any longer the woman who had
greeted him.
Her hand came up to touch his cheek, exploring
tenderly the length of his lean jaw. She heard herself say in
wonder, “Malcolm.”
“My love.” His lips hovered over hers, then
captured her mouth hungrily. The ensuing kiss was almost violent
with longing and suppressed desire. His tongue plunged deep,
tangling with hers, probing and possessing. When he broke away,
he whispered breathlessly, “I thought this would never happen
again. By the Gods, how I have yearned for ye.”
“Then take me now,” she answered, a heavy
tightening in her breasts and liquid heat centering between her
legs. “I need you inside me, Malcolm.”
His laugh was low and dark as he carried her
toward the bed. “After two centuries of wanting, lass, prepare
for a long, hard ride.”
Glorious anticipation shot through her entire
body, making it tingle as he laid her down on the cool sheets.
He stripped her delicate embroidered nightdress off at the
expense of buttons and fabric. Tossing the damaged item on the
floor, his avid gaze roamed over her nude body with lascivious
delight. Pulling off his boots, he shrugged out of his shirt and
dropped it on the floor, his hands going to the fastenings on
his breeches.
Who is she?
Carlotta wondered, caught in a hazy mixture of confusion and
intense sexual desire, knowing she had no control over what was
happening. Her mind was aware but her wayward body obeyed the
commands of someone else. And when the tall, blond man she
somehow knew was now Malcolm and not St. John, stepped out of
his pants, she saw he was fully aroused, his erection high and
stiff against the taut plane of his stomach, the distended tip
glistening with the evidence of his readiness.
Languid with need, she smiled and shockingly
spread her legs in carnal invitation.
“Brenna,” he said as he moved over her,
kissing her again, resting against her open thighs but not yet
penetrating her. He tasted a little like the brandy St. John had
drank after dinner, his mouth warm and firm and delicious. His
long-fingered hands stroked her skin, skimming over her shoulder
to cup one of her breasts, and he brushed the nipple with his
thumb. “What a bonny, bonny lass,” he murmured in her ear,
kissing her neck lightly. “Her breasts aren’t as large as yours,
love, but they’re more than a firm soft handful, and that’s
enough for any man.”
Running her hands through his thick hair,
reveling in the silky texture, she laughed lightly. “Shall we
compare your cocks as well?” Shifting a little, she tested the
length of the rigid shaft poised between her legs. Her fingers
measured the girth and lightly rubbed over the slick, swollen
crest. “This feels quite adequate, my lord. Hard and long and
ready to take me.”
His grin was wickedly teasing. Heavy need
darkened his eyes as he stared down at her from beneath the
fringe of thick lashes. “You always were a randy lass, eager for
a tumble.”
A twinge of sadness came and went, just a
shimmer. “With you,” she whispered. “Only you and never
another.”
“Don’t I know that, love. I was jesting.” His
mouth brushed hers and their lips trembled together as he began
to enter her. Carlotta felt the probing hardness at her vaginal
opening, her legs spreading further to accommodate his size, the
sensation incredibly pleasurable. “So tight,” he said through
his teeth. “Damned tight, wet, and hotter than Hades itself. God
help me, it’s good.”
Lifting her hips, she felt the progression of
each inch as he slowly impaled her with his hard shaft, finally
resting fully inside her vaginal passage, nudging her womb. When
he began to withdraw, a low rapturous sigh came from her throat.
“Yes.”
Her impassioned response made him smile, a
soft growl punctuating his plunging thrust back into her willing
body. Clutching at his tight buttocks, she welcomed the rhythm,
finding a wild need building and taking over.
It was flagrant and primitive and acutely
pleasurable. It was ecstasy and heated excitement. Her breasts
trembled with each inward stroke, and her hands protested at the
small of his back as he slid backwards. A blissful tension
seemed to hold her in its grip, growing tighter and tighter with
each moment of his erotic possession. His use of her body gave
her so much physical gratification that she openly moaned her
enjoyment. As he moved he tangled his hands in her long hair,
whispering words of love and desire in her ear, his rangy body
moving over and in hers. The subtle scent of his skin was
unfamiliar, but masculine and intriguing.
Her climax burst like a glorious sunrise, the
convulsions wracking her body as she cried out in release. Her
inner muscles gripped his surging cock as the shockwaves rippled
through her, carrying on one blissful ripple of pleasure after
another. Moments later he stiffened and she could feel the jerk
of his ejaculation as he groaned. His orgasmic release was
followed by the sound of silence except for the restless wet
breeze sighing at the window.
Damp, sated, and comfortable in the arms of a
man who was no more than a virtual stranger, Carlotta lay
sprawled across his broad chest in the aftermath, trying to
catch her breath.
“Oh yes,” she heard her lover whisper. “That
is how I remember it, lass. And we’ve just begun.”
* * * *
The room was unfamiliar, the perfume of early
summer roses mingling with the earthier, unmistakably musky
scent of sexual intercourse. Gavin blinked and came slowly
awake, finding himself tangled in silken sheets, the soft, nude
body of a woman lying next to him.
Jesus…what the hell happened?
Dinner, he thought feverishly, he remembered
dinner. The food had been exquisite, and the raven-haired
duchess more than divinely beautiful…
Next to him in the lightening darkness of
approaching dawn, she stirred and sighed, her arm tightening
around his waist. On her side, she slept easily against him,
soft pink lips parted, her bare gleaming body ivory in the
inadequate light struggling against the heavy drapes. Lustrous
ebony hair spilled in disarray over the bed linens. Her full
breasts lifted a fraction with each measured breath, the nipples
the delicate color of coral from a clear blue sea, perfect and
enticing.
He was naked in her bed, he realized in grim
astonishment. What’s more, it came back slowly—he recalled dark,
forbidden pleasure and joyous fulfillment as he moved between
her legs time and again, taking his fill of her slender,
voluptuous body.
Bloody Hell, if memory served, he’d fucked
her half the night.
Well, not him precisely.
God in heaven, no wonder he was tired and
drained. She’d welcomed him too, that much he knew. His
shoulders bore the marks from her nails. Even in the uncertain
morning light, he could see the glistening smears of dried sperm
on her slender thighs, the tiny dark triangle of pubic hair
between them both dainty and inviting. He hardened as he
remembered what it felt like to plunder that sweet, delicious
heat, his shaft stiffening and rising in arousal.
And the last thing he needed, he realized as
he jerked his gaze away, was to get an erection at this
particular moment. Whatever had happened last night hadn’t been
his fault, but if she woke to his cock at full mast, she might
doubt his word on it.
Carefully dislodging her encircling arm, he
slipped out of bed and searched for his discarded clothing.
Carlotta Stone rolled a little and murmured
something incoherent. Her beautiful face was serene until her
lashes fluttered, and he just managed to jerk his breeches over
his hips before she opened her eyes. He saw a reflection of his
own consternation as she came to the realization of her nudity
and his presence in her bedroom.
“Oh,” she whispered. A visible blush invaded
her cheeks as she sat up and snatched the sheet up to cover her
bared breasts. “It really happened, didn’t it?”
Gavin felt more than a little off-balance
himself. “I’m afraid so,” he said, fastening his pants and
stifling a wince over his half rigid state.
“I thought maybe, for a moment, it was a
dream.” She swallowed audibly, looking more than delicious with
her shining tumbled hair a dark halo around her oval face. Her
slender shoulders trembled a fraction.
“Dream? I’m afraid not. What it was
exactly, I am not certain, The only thing I can tell you is that
I have never encountered this particular situation before.” He
ruefully ran a hand through his rumpled hair. “I feel as if I
should apologize, Duchess, but at the same time assure you it
was not my intention to …well…to…”
“It wasn’t you.” Her declaration was soft but
firm, though her cheeks were more scarlet than ever.
At least she realized that. “No, it wasn’t.
Well, to the extent I could not resist what was happening enough
to change it.” Now that the initial shock had passed a little,
the scientist in him was deeply intrigued. Gazing at the woman
in the rumpled bed, he asked quietly, “Tell me, how was it for
you?”
Glancing up, she gave him a scandalized look
from dark wide eyes, her soft lips compressing together. “I beg
your pardon? Simply because I exonerate you from any
responsibility, Mr. St. John, do not think that gives you the
largesse to ask me outrageous questions.”
Realizing how she had interpreted his inquiry,
Gavin couldn’t help it, he gave a smothered laugh. “I didn’t
mean the actual act of sexual intercourse,” he explained, “for
if your experience was similar to mine, it means you were fully
aware, you simply were not able to control your body. That is
what I wished to know.”
Perhaps it was the memory of the way she had
climaxed wildly so many times beneath him, but Carlotta glanced
away, no longer meeting his eyes. Her slender throat rippled in
a small swallow. “Yes, that is exactly how it was.”
SIREN SEX Rating
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SENSUAL:
Traditional romance, suitable for the general
audience (BookStrand) |
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STEAMY:
Heavy sexual tension; graphic details; may contain
coarse language (BookStrand) |
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SIZZLING:
Erotic, graphic sex; explicit sexual language; may offend delicate
readers (SIREN) |
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SCORCHING:
Erotica romance; contains many sexual encounters; may contain unconventional
sex; will offend delicate readers (SIREN) |
| |
SEXTREME:
Excessive or non-exclusive sex; many instances of unconventional sex; may be hardcore; not for the faint-hearted
(SIREN) |
SIREN BOOK LENGTH
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NOVELLA:
15,000-25,000
words |
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NOVEL:
25,000-55,000
words |
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FULL
NOVEL: 55,000-80,000
words |
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PLUS
NOVEL:
80,000-100,000
words |
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SUPER
PLUS
NOVEL:
100,000-140,000
words |
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HUMONGOUS
NOVEL:
140,000+
words |
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