Voracious Vixens, 13 Novels of Sexy Horror and Hot Paranormal Romance

by Travis Luedke

  Leaning her head back, she studied the ceiling. Wait! I have police files and archives at the station. She bit at her lower lip. I’ll find that photo. She remembered it clearly now. A cop at the courthouse and he stood in front of reporters. Goosebumps rose along her arms as she remembered how he looked. Tall, broad shouldered, with amused dark eyes and a sinful smile. What does it mean to me, though?

  ~* * * *~

  Malibu Police Station

  Valentine locked the driver-side door of the Mustang and stood motionless in the parking area of the Malibu Precinct, distracted by the question she’d asked herself repeatedly for months now. Why in hell did I accept this gift? Her puzzled gaze centered on the gleaming, cherry red muscle car.

  The Boss, eh? She remembered Benny’s title for it. The extremely masculine vehicle wasn’t even her style or idea of a car she would buy, and accepting it as an anonymous gift...unethical really. She studied the powerful machine and answered herself. I just knew I wanted it when I saw it and I didn’t even hesitate.

  Sleek, yet powerful. Simply a muscled machine, while delivering an unbelievable kick of adrenaline whenever you outdistanced every car on the road. Valentine blinked rapidly the usual pull to get back in nudging at her as her pulse rate increased.

  The outer shell of the car was seductive, yet commanding, while glaring at you with a mean, unrelenting challenge as it provoked the wild part of you. It would tempt you to hop in, seducing you to flow with the changing of gears, while beguiling you with a belief you could catch anything that moved.

  While on the inside, it beckoned with its plush comfortable interior, welcoming you and molding itself around your personality, while it made you feel safe. More than just a car, it existed as an entire experience, sucking you into some impetuous, long, hard ride, as if you were chasing something elusive and alluring, your blood surging through your veins.

  As you lowered your foot on the accelerator, a tempestuous triumph buries itself with a sensual shove deep inside as you grip the wheel, while the meaningless world flew by in a blur. You literally breathed in the pure horsepower, imbibing and reveling in its forbidden gratification of blinding, perpetual speed.

  Then, at an instinctively defined moment, you slam down on the hefty brake pedal while coming to a rushing halt. Reeling with euphoria, you step out, releasing an exhilarating breath, feeling superbly satisfied and magnificently complete.

  And you’d fight the enticing urge to get in and live it all again.

  Realization slammed her with a solid jolt. The car gave her the same feeling as the elusive lover in her dreams. She drew in a sharp, stunned breath. Oh, man—is this his car? Valentine shivered with some unidentifiable sensation as she took an alarmed step back from the magnificent beast of a car. Magnificent beast? She swallowed heavily at the implausible idea. Did he die and his ghost haunts me, through this car?

  At the preposterous lunacy of such an impossible scenario, Valentine laughed aloud and smothered her mouth with her trembling hands. Breathing heavily, she slyly gazed around for possible witnesses to her obvious nervous breakdown. It’s all so wild and I’d better get myself together. She pushed the feelings away. I just hate personal mysteries—they make me want to scream.

  Squaring her shoulders, she headed for the station doors. Just like that, the psycho-killer-Barbie she’d busted disappeared from the system after the trial. They were supposed to move her and then? She just disappeared, with no trace at all. Valentine’s eyes narrowed. I really do hate when things are unsolved, events left hanging and someday, I will find her. She stopped at the fountain. I say the same about him, too. She shook her head with an aggravated breath. Him? She gritted her teeth. I’m so sick of this. I wonder if I should talk to the chief about it? Valentine strode in through the doors. No, I’d better not. It would mean psych for sure and the chief already threatened that if I didn’t calm down.

  Bobby gawked at her from the clerk’s station.

  “Desk job, Bobby Boy?” she asked.

  He gulped solidly and nodded his head at her, raising a slip of paper.

  Valentine grabbed it. “Oh, the chief, eh?” Her gaze rose to see his lowered head as he typed one finger at a time on the computer while pointedly avoiding any conversation with her.

  I guess he really doesn’t like me much. Well, he can get in line for that occupation with at least six other ex-partners. She grinned and headed to the chief’s office.

  ~* * * *~

  Sidney, Australia, Lower East Queensland.

  On surveillance for two days with nothing to do but wait, Payne’s bored gaze rose to see a woman walking along the sidewalk. Only it wasn’t walking really, merely a sashay of splendorous, mesmerizing motion, and his dark eyes narrowed. Hello! He watched the sweet sway of her hips as her long black hair fell softly over one shoulder.

  Her face wasn’t visible as she continued down the walk and disappeared through a building entrance. But who really fucking cared? His chuckle vibrated inside the car’s interior. I wonder if she has blue eyes? He grinned. Most guys didn’t care about that stuff. But me? I would want a pair of deep blue intense eyes gazing into mine with a desperate need in them, which only I could satisfy.

  He shook his head with exasperation. It’s a moot point anyway, since there were none left I could enjoy. Nope...all human and frail, with no pleasure for old Payne in this world. Still, a beast can fantasize, right? He let out a heavy sigh. A woman just like her, one with curves to her build who stood proudly on long, lovely legs with shapely hips you could grab and use to your advantage.

  Payne closed his eyes and could see her in his mind and feel her body next to him. Her soft giving, against my hard taking. He would raise those well-rounded hips up and shove her down onto his waiting cock, watching as her torso stretched straight up, and her eyes would pop wide open with a startled pleasure. He would hold her tightly and begin a slow sliding into her, delving into her sweet, silky depths with a keen precision. And he would revel in repeating the relentless strokes as she whimpered with fevered delight.

  He let out a growl as he pictured her, eagerly grinding herself down and over his throbbing erection while she let out a moan of helpless pleasure. This is where he would pound harder and plunge deeper into her silky, wet pussy. Her supple body stretching out with a shuddering climax, her soft panting breaths grazing his ear. So fucking hot. Payne’s breathing sped up as her orgasm squeezed his pulsing cock with her tightening pussy as she came.

  Payne sat up straight in the seat of the car. Fuck! Rock hard and throbbing with unspent lust, he knew his skin marbled. The hot babe would float in when he was bored and entertain him with her sexy giving. A lot of fucking good it does me! Shit, I should've erased the entire female gender from my memory! He tilted his head. The lovely brunette just seems so real and I can almost taste her. But no face. He laughed aloud. Well, who in the hell needed one?

  Attempting to shake off the heat of the repeated fantasy, which would come along when least expected, Payne calmed himself and forced his attention to the slime he was chasing now. The bastard had to make a move soon. I hate fucking Australia, already! I’ve become so fucking bored that I have to make up women to entertain me. What’s next, dirty mags and a fistful?

  Disgusted with himself, he reached into his pocket for his little cigar, placed it to his lips and froze. There! His dark eyes narrowed when he spotted the infamous coke dealer getting into a taxicab. This son of a bitch isn’t going make any more drug deals in stale old Aussie town!

  Dropping the cigar from his lips, he started the car and veered it over to the street. He gritted his teeth while a small foreign car honked loudly. God Damn back-assward country, with all these little Euro hybrid pieces of shit they stupidly call cars while driving on the wrong side of the fucking road! He swerved over to the far lane, his eyes locked on the taxi.

  The taxi sped through the streets of lower Sydney and turned sharply into an alley.

  So, you spotted your tail eh, Gove
y? Payne grinned. Okay, I’ll drop back and wait until you think it’s clear. He carefully backed his car into a fireside alley. A beast has some good qualities, you know? Tracking seemed to be second nature, even when tracking humans. I could lose the taxi, but would still find it in the end, he mused, while the hefty red muscle car purred magnificently as he waited.

  With the purring sound only a Mustang’s engine could make, he realized it could somehow soothe his beast in some bizarre way. Payne shook his head. The Cobra and I just had to have it shipped all the way from New York. He reached down on the leather seat to feel for the little cigar. They sure as fuck never saw a car like this one at Sydney Central. He smirked as he remembered the look on their pasty white faces at the Queensland station, when he first drove the car up to the front of the building. And they’d never seen anything like me, neither.

  Payne’s smile dropped as he placed the cigarillo to his lips and flipped his Zippo open. There wasn’t even enough crime to go around on this whole stinking Australian continent for a cop like me. He lit the cigarillo with the blue flame from his favorite Zippo; a present from his twin, also a detective. Yeah, it runs in our blood—the spirited chase, the bloodthirsty hunt, and if a case goes really well...the kill.

  His interest lit up as the glow of his cigar brightened when he spotted taxi number thirty-five. He slowly edged the Mustang forward and followed. So, Mister Slimeball is going to China Town? Great, straight to my favorite part of town! Payne gritted the cigarillo with his teeth and continued with the beloved hunt.

  ~* * * *~

  Sydney Central, Australia

  Payne dragged the cuffed man in and pushed him to the desk.

  The old clerk raised his startled gaze to the pair.

  The tall detective tossed a bulging plastic bag filled with powder onto the counter. “Book ’em, Possession with Intent.” He let go of the suspect.

  “This fucking Yankee derro cut me, mate!” The suspect glared at the clerk as blood from his nose dripped down over his lips.

  The old bleary-eyed Sergeant of the desk stared at the impressive American cop.

  “I don’t know what the hell that means, but Mister Drug Peddler here, had a car accident and somehow busted what he calls his fucking nose on the dash.” Payne grinned as he shrugged his wide shoulders.

  The clerk shook his head with disapproval but a spark of admiration twinkled in his eyes. “The Captain wants a word, Lieutenant Payne.”

  The brash Lieutenant nodded and sauntered down the hall. He raised his fist to knock as the door opened and a woman stood there.

  He gazed at her with a start of surprise as he looked over her stiffly starched dark suit.

  An older woman glared back with a sour slant to her lips, her hateful expression matching her flinty eyes as she made a derisive sound under her breath and moved past him.

  Payne shook his head with humor and looked to the desk.

  The Captain nodded for him to come in.

  “Who’s the cheerful wretch?” Payne joked as he sat in the chair.

  The older cop lifted a grey brow at him.

  Payne innocently pursed his lips and gazed away.

  “You know, Payne, you’re a real pearler.” The Aussie born cop smiled.

  “Is that a compliment?”

  “Yeah, you got a bust record that makes our local cop heroes look like a piece of piss.”

  Payne blinked at him.

  He chuckled at the man’s bemused expression. “Now some say, you’re a raw prawn, but I can tell by the shine in your eye that you be genuine.”

  “I didn’t understand a fucking word of that, Cap.”

  The older man threw his head back and laughed.

  The American Lieutenant sat and waited for what this was really all about.

  “We have a bloody bag running around the Bush ranches.”

  “A bloody...?” Payne peered at him with total perplexity. “A bag of what?”

  The Captain shook his head with humor. “It’s a ghoul.”

  The tall American grew still in his chair.

  “A well-known local who’s a big bickie and owns half of the outback was slaughtered two days ago.” The Captain lifted a meaningful brow at him.

  Payne sat forward with interest. “Okay, now you’re speaking my English.”

  “Well, we don’t have many Homicide experts.” His boss shrugged. “The scraggy you just saw came from the American Consulate.”

  Payne listened intently.

  “Yeah, it does involve Americans. She can’t butt in just yet and she's pissed, but we can't tell if they will butt in and send someone anyway.” The Captain sighed. “You’re our guy for it. But, you ain't gonna ken to where this is at.”

  “Victoria?”

  The Aussie Captain shook his head. “In the Bush.”

  “Well, how bad can it be?” He shrugged.

  “You are a city dweller, racing around in that bugger car of yourn's.” The Captain smirked.

  A smile edged at Payne’s lips.

  “And the Never-Never can only be navigated with Jeeps. There’s a lot of rough sun and no posts.”

  “The Never-Never, ’eh? I like challenges.” He smiled wickedly.

  “Well, you’ll think this is a real beaut then.”

  “Okay, so what’s the deal?” Payne experienced a small rush of adrenaline.

  The old cop handed him a file. “A killer on the loose and we don't want none thinking it’s an Aborigine, cause it would cause a real Blue here at the city level and at the main level.”

  Payne studied the file.

  “We got your guide ready; you be on a walkabout in the morn!” the Captain announced with enthusiastic optimism.

  “I don’t do walking, Cap.” Payne scowled at him.

  The Captain sniggered. “Nah, not real walkin’. You’ll be in a Jeep, Lieutenant. Just meet him here at dawn tomorrow.”

  “Dawn?”

  “That’s how they work, early up and buggered out till sunset.” He grinned at the baffled Payne.

  “The guy speaks English, right?”

  “He is Ab, but he’s a real bonzer of a guide!” The Captain nodded.

  “And that is a good thing, right?”

  “Yeah, Payne, he’s the best bushy guide in the whole territory.”

  The handsome Lieutenant rose from the chair.

  “And be careful, there’s some wild, vicious hyenas out there, you know? Not everyone is what they appear to be,” the older cop warned.

  Stilling at the ironic statement, Payne stared at the astute Aussie cop. “Yeah, that’s so true.” He grinned as he left the office.

  ~* * * *~

  Australian Outback, Wirrajerry

  The sun rose while the Jeep navigated along a road, which in reality wasn’t a road at all. It was a rambling trail meandering through gulley-sized potholed ruts.

  Payne held onto the roll bar with a bored numbness, which would’ve put him to sleep if the dammed road wasn’t so bumpy. It all looks the same and they say it goes on forever. He focused on what he’d read in the criminal report.

  There’d actually been two killings, but the first was an Aborigine and the news of an indigenous death traveled slowly. The killer tore their throats open, the weapon undetermined and the crime scene contaminated by everyone and their neighbor. Payne rolled his eyes and took in the vast wasteland. What fucking neighbors?

  “Wirrajerry!” The guide announced.

  He swung his distracted gaze over. “What?”

  “The murders?” The dark skinned driver nodded as his eyes stayed on the so-called road. “It happen in Wirrajerry.”

  “If you say so.” Payne’s bored gaze remained on the terrain.

  “My name is Binja.” The guide offered.

  “Payne,” he sighed with disinterest.

  “Oh yes, and you give much of that!”

  “Oh, yeah?” The tall detective raised a brow at him.

  “You are deadly.” Binja nodded emphaticall
y. “Give much pain.”

  “How do you know?”

  “You are all cold on the outside, but...?” The guide laughed nervously.

  Payne sat forward, full of curiosity while he intently studied the driver.

  “You not been human long,” Binja answered while appearing edgy.

  “What the fuck does that mean?” Payne stared hard at him.

  “We Indigenous are crazy, you know?” He let out a jittery laugh. “It mean, you’re not, uh...” His voice fell away as he gripped the steering wheel.

  Payne leaned back in his seat with a chuckle, pulling his hat down over his eyes.

  Binja released an annoyed breath. “Another dastardly one in the back country,” he muttered low under his breath.

  “American, you mean?” Payne asked.

  The driver gasped and swung his startled gaze over. “Huh?”

  Payne raised his hat brim. “What other Americans have you met lately?”

  “A pretty one, she be a real ripper. She married to the big man.”

  “Which man?”

  “The dead one.” The driver swallowed heavily.

  “And his wife is the ripper?” He grinned at the guide.

  “No, it means um—hot you know, fine to be looking at? She like you, though.” His eyes became beady.

  Payne stared at his dark face and threw his head back with a boisterous laugh. “You mean she’s American?” He patted the guide gently on the shoulder with humor.

  “She that, too.” Binja nodded with emphasis.

  The long legged cop propped his boot up on the dash while lowering his hat again. “Wake me when we get to the Whirly Jerry place.” An amused chuckle vibrated from his chest.

  ~* * * *~

  Stephens Triple K Ranch, Wirrajerry

  “We here!” Binja announced.

  Payne leaned forward, tipping his hat back. “It looks the same with maybe more green to it.” He gazed all around. “There’s nothing here.”

  “We on Wirra’ land though.” Binja shrugged.