By Debra Glass
Psychic Aries Mackenzie is having nightmares of dying at the hands of a serial killer who feeds his victims drug-laced chocolates. Aided by one of Atlanta’s finest—tall, black and handsome Detective Trip Washington—Aries attempts to use her powerful intuition to solve the recent string of deaths.
To activate her sixth sense, however, she has to put herself in the victim’s shoes. Literally. Aries is bound, blindfolded and fed bits of chocolate as she submits to a shocked and disbelieving Trip. She expected the psychic hits—but not the promise of love to come. Still, her intuition may not be enough to save her from a Death by Chocolate.
An Excerpt From: DEATH BY CHOCOLATE
Copyright © DEBRA GLASS, 2009
All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.
Neither was his SUV.
A detective’s sense of unease rippled through his veins. He reached for his cell phone.
“Excuse me, sir,” a bellhop called. “Are you Detective Washington?”
His gaze flicked habitually to the boy’s nametag. Gary. “Yes, Trip Washington.”
Gary handed him a magnetic key card. “I was told to give you this.”
Trip turned it over in his hand, not understanding.
“Room 506,” the bellhop said with a smile.
One look in the freckle-faced employee’s mischievous eyes told Trip all he needed to know.
Aries had gotten a room in the hotel.
What was she up to?
Uncertainly, he walked back into the well-appointed hotel lobby and took the same elevator up to the fifth floor. He followed the brass signs tacked to the walls in the direction of room 506 and slipped the keycard in the door. At once, he heard the lock tumble and the green entry light came on.
Slowly, he turned the handle and opened the door. “Aries? You in here?”
She stepped into the entry hall dressed in nothing but a lacy bra and panties the same delectable, creamy color of her skin. “Did you bring your handcuffs?” she asked urgently.
His gaze dropped to the bottle of lubricant she held in one hand and the box of condoms she had in the other. What the…
His thoughts skidded to an abrupt halt. “Whoa!” he exclaimed. “Wait a minute. Are you one of those types who get off on murders?”
He tried to look her in the eye but he couldn’t tear his gaze away from the plumpness of her pale breasts bubbling over the lace of her bra cups. And her waist… It was so small he could just about wrap his hands around it. His mouth went dry. The thin fabric of her panties creasing at her cleft left no doubt, this girl was au naturel.
“I need you to tie me up,” she said, adopting that businesslike tone again. “And to blindfold me.”
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