Feature and Giveaway: Seductive Shadows by Marni Mann

Charlie is a passionate, sensually-inspired art student, desperately seeking an escape from the abusive past that haunts her and a tragic accident that emptied her heart. Scarred and unable to love, her yearning for physical pleasure leads her into a tantalizing, dangerous world of power and seduction. The anonymity of the deal offers security; the money brings financial freedom and the madam is the mother figure she longs for.

But the thrill of the mansion and its arousing dominance quickly fades when she meets renowned-yet-mysterious Cameron Hardy, whose intense baby blue eyes send a nervous flutter through her core. Cameron is sexy, and not in a subtle way. He stimulates Charlie’s art, her intellect and her desires. Just as he begins to break through her emotional boundaries, she discovers a devastating connection between her past and her scandalous work at the mansion, shattering everything she thought to be true.

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“Good evening,” he said. He slowly moved closer.

I took in all of him. Though he was dressed as a gentleman, there was something rugged about him; a man who didn’t use only his brain when he went to work, but his hands, too. His eyes moved from mine and landed on my body, causing everything below my neck to redden. Only a few seconds passed before I felt him. His thumb grazed my bottom lip, his skin cold from the glass he held in his palm. I licked my lips, tasting the sweetness he had left behind. The spark from that simple touch opened my pores.

I needed him to want me.

He pressed the rim of the glass against my lips, pouring a shot of the amber liquid into my mouth. I swallowed. It was exactly what I wanted, something stiff that would ease my flutters. It burned my throat, gliding down smoothly and without effort. It felt so good…and it tasted even better. His hand brushed against my jaw as he held the drink out in front of me. I met his eyes and waited, but he wouldn’t give me a second sip. He moved a few inches closer, and I leaned farther back into the pole. The liquid finally entered into my mouth, and my body responded to his power.

While I stood in silence waiting for his next move, I observed the finer details of his face. He took care of himself; his body attested to that. But his skin didn’t look older than forty. I pictured his square chin resting on the mattress, his blue eyes meeting my green ones, the light dusting of scruff that covered his cheeks tickling the inside of my thighs. My breast fitting perfectly in his palm, with his long, slender fingers trapping my nipple and squeezing it between his nails. I wanted to lick the stubble on the sides of his face. I wanted to nibble his large, soft lips.

“Call me Jay,” he said.

During one of our conversations, Victoria had told me not to use my real name when I was with a client, and to have the men call me Cee. Not that it mattered, but it made me assume that Victoria wasn’t really hers.

“What can I call you?” he asked.

This wasn’t about me, I reminded myself. I could fantasize all I wanted about Jay, but I was here to please him. And it wasn’t about what I should say; it was about what he would want to hear.

“You can call me anything you want,” I replied. “Tell me, Jay: who do you want me to be?”

The breath he exhaled trickled inside my collar and down my neck. “Tell me your name,” he said a little louder. There wasn’t any anger in his tone. Just desire.

“Cee.”

He dipped his head, his lips stopping just above my earlobe. His fingers traced the skin below my jaw. I expected words to come out of his mouth, but instead it was a tiny moan. A breeze of cold air rushed against me as he moved over to the bed. He sat on the edge, unknotting his tie before resting his hands on the mattress.

“Come to me.”

I stepped past the pole and around the end of the bed. His commands and the way he expected to be obeyed enticed me. They weren’t cruel or threatening; his voice, his words, his whole persona was deliberate and inviting. The need from my other sexual partners had often been a turn off, but Jay’s tone was just the opposite.

“Slowly,” he said.

With my chin pointed down, hair falling over my cheeks, I looked up at him as though he were my master. If this was the role I needed to take tonight to impress Victoria and make her proud, I was ready to abide. Our eyes met, and his breath quickened. I bit my bottom lip and took a step forward. My toes danced over a broken slab of mirror, pausing for several seconds, and I took another. Landing just a foot from his lap, my fingers caressed the buttons of his shirt. When I got to the bottom, I started back up.

“Take it off,” he said, his eyes never leaving mine.

I pushed his top button through the hole.

“No,” he said quickly. “Yours.”

My fingers circled around the top buttons of my shirt, popping them through their holes. As I got lower I shimmied my shoulders out of the collar, and the shirt fell to my chest. With my breasts still hidden, I hesitated.

His mouth opened. “Drop it. Now.”

His impatience was sexy; his demands caused everything below my stomach to soften as the fluttering increased. His voice was as nerve-wracking as it was arousing.

I pulled the shirt open, rubbing the fabric over my nipples, making them even harder as they pushed through the thin cotton. I watched the shirt fall to the floor. It floated so slowly and gracefully in its descent. I kept my eyes lowered as I dipped my fingers into the waist of my panties, running the width of my stomach.

“Now those.”

A New Englander at heart, Marni Mann is now a Floridian inspired by the sandy beaches and hot pink sunsets of Sarasota. She taps mainstream appeal and shakes worldwide taboos, taking her readers on a dark and breathtaking journey. When she’s not nose deep in her laptop, she’s scouring for chocolate, traveling, reading, or walking her four-legged children.

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