Thrall by Avon Gale and Roan Parrish
Publisher: Philtre Press
Release Date (Print & Ebook): September 27th, 2018
Subgenre: Mystery
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Synopsis:
Dating Sucks & Love Bites Happy couple Mina Murray and Lucy Westenra have begun to garner national attention for their quirky New Orleans true-crime podcast, Shadowcast. When Lucy’s brother Harker disappears while researching the popular new dating app Thrall, they’re thrown into a real-life mystery. Aided by their social media expert, Arthur, and Harker’s professor, Van Helsing, they follow the trail, hoping to find Harker before it’s too late. When their investigation crosses the path of a possible serial killer, the line between fantasy and reality begins to blur. And as they race against the app’s countdown clock, so does the line between friendship and love. What starts as a flirtatious rivalry between computer-savvy Arthur and techno-averse Van Helsing becomes much more, and Mina and Lucy’s relationship is tested in the fires of social media. As they get down to the wire, the group discovers that nothing on their screens is as it seems—including their enemy. A modern retelling of Bram Stoker’s Dracula.
I danced until the sweat dripped down my back and moistened my neck. I knew every man in the joint could see the dark spots on my silk dress where it clung to my skin. Could see the damp line of my spine and the curves of moisture around my breasts. I knew they could imagine how wet I was elsewhere.
But I didn’t care about any of them. The only eyes on me that I cared about were Mina’s. She stood in the corner, watching me dance with every man who approached me, her brown gaze stripping me bare.
My heart raced as she approached the dance floor. I could feel it flutter in my throat and in my belly, and throb between my legs. I threw my head back as the song ended, arms outstretched. Tonight would be abandon.
“May I cut in,” she said, voice low and serious.
The man I was dancing with eyed her striped suit with amusement, gaze lingering on her chest. Then he shrugged. “Sure,” he said, reaching for her.
This was my favorite part.
“Not with you,” Mina said, and held out her hand to me.
The moment I felt her skin against mine, we might as well have been alone in an empty club. The band played a jazzy tune, but I pressed myself against Mina and we swayed slowly, lips parted to share each other’s breath. Her hands bracketed my hips and I hitched my skirt higher, slid a leg around her thigh. Her hand slid slowly down my back and over the curve of my ass. She pressed me closer, until I ground against her, the feeling of soft silk against the molten heat of my bare cunt making me shudder.
“Nothing under that dress, like I requested?”
I nodded, drunk with lust—and, yes, a lot of gin. Then I shook my head, unsure which was the way to agree.
One elegant dark brow raised and Mina’s hand inched down over the curve of my ass to brush against my asshole. I clenched at her teasing touch.
“Mmm,” she said, leaning in to speak in my ear. “My good girl.”
I nodded. I wanted to be bad for the whole world and still be Mina’s good girl.
We continued to rock together and I could see the flush rise in her cheeks. I risked a glance around and saw greedy eyes on us.
“What should I do with you, I wonder,” she said, low. “Should I show them who you belong to? Should I make you come right here, in front of everyone? You know I can do it.”
I moaned at the thought of my silk dress slick with my arousal, pressed tight to the rough fabric of Mina’s suit.
“Or should I take you home? Walk you right past them and let every single one know they have no right to lay even a finger on you?”
I whimpered as Mina’s fingers slid lower and she tipped her hips forward, encouraging me to rut against her.
“Or maybe,” she mused, so low I could hardly hear her, “I should take you into the bathroom and fuck you until you come, screaming. Let everyone listen and no one touch or see.”
“Yes, yes, please,” I begged, clenching as I felt heat flutter low in my belly.
“Come with me, doll,” she purred. With one hand on my ass, she led me past the bar and to the private bathroom. Though the door locked, it was thin, and it was common knowledge no secrets should be exchanged here. But secrets weren’t what we had in mind.
Avon Gale
Avon Gale was once the mayor on Foursquare of Jazzercise and Lollicup, which should tell you all you need to know about her as a person. She likes road trips, rock concerts, drinking Kentucky bourbon, JRPGs and yelling at hockey. She’s a displaced southerner living in a liberal midwestern college town, and she never gets tired of people and their stories — either real or the ones she makes up in her head.
Avon is represented by Courtney Miller-Callihan at Handspun Literary Agency.
Connect with Avon: Twitter | Facebook | Newsletter | Instagram | Website
Roan Parrish
Roan Parrish lives in Philadelphia, where she is gradually attempting to write love stories in every genre.
When not writing, she can usually be found cutting her friends’ hair, meandering through whatever city she’s in while listening to torch songs and melodic death metal, or cooking overly elaborate meals. She loves bonfires, winter beaches, minor chord harmonies, and self-tattooing. One time she may or may not have baked a six-layer chocolate cake and then thrown it out the window in a fit of pique.
Connect with Roan: Parrish or Perish FB Group | Twitter | Instagram | BookBub | Newsletter
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