Carnal Desires

Carnal 1

eXtasy Books

Heat Rating: Steamy
Word Count: 54,481
0 Ratings (0.0)

Cole Beaufoy is turned vampire against his will by the mesmerizing Erika Reinhart. He is finally able to track her down after she fled the scene of her crime, and learns that his fate has already been determined by the Compendium Vampira, an ancient vampire text in which his name is mentioned as the savior to all of vampire kind. No pressure.

Not only is it prophesied that he would be Lord Beaufoy one day, Erika’s name is mentioned as being his Lady. He wants so badly to be angry with her for turning him vampire, but he cannot get past her gorgeous face. The moment she looks at him with her baby-blue eyes, his non-beating heart simply melts.

The current vampire lord, Lord Alexander, has begun using his disciples to murder innocent humans and vampires alike, all in the name of his cause. Alexander’s nefarious plot to genocide the human race is under way.

Cole tries his best to keep out of the killing until he learns that his younger sister has been kidnapped by Lord Alexander, to be used as leverage. Cole must fight to save all those around him who are dear to him.

Carnal Desires
0 Ratings (0.0)

Carnal Desires

Carnal 1

eXtasy Books

Heat Rating: Steamy
Word Count: 54,481
0 Ratings (0.0)
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Cover Art by Martine Jardin

One bite. That’s all it took to completely turn my life on its end and destroy everything dear to me.

One single bite. 

One bite from what had to be a vampire—if such things as vampires even exist outside of television or fiction novels—and I had this sudden urge to rip somebody’s throat out.

No, maybe that’s not totally accurate. I was dying to exsanguinate the first person who crosses my path. There was this insatiable thirst. I had never felt anything like it. The feeling that I no longer controlled myself, my body. I felt as though there was this being inside me, controlling me.

But as far as literally ripping apart a throat… eww. What a terrible prospect. Such gore. Such…

Blood. Mmmm.

A sensation of bliss flowed through me just thinking about it. The sensation of drinking blood, of the thick warmness flowing down my throat.

Warm, thick…

I gripped my head in my hands and squeezed. What the hell was happening to me? 

My vision went red. Blood red, if I’m being totally honest. Terribly, brutally…wonderfully red. Just the thought of sucking someone dry (not like that, you perv) got me turned on. Or was it the pure, unadulterated power coursing through my veins? Helluva stiffie either way.

Does blood still course through veins when the heart beats no longer? These were the thoughts that kept me up at night.

Or maybe it was the fact that I was no longer able to come out during the day. I learned this lesson pretty quickly. One step into the direct sunlight this morning nearly had my skin alight. What would happen if I stayed out in the sun? Would I burst into flames proper? Would I sizzle like a steak in a frying pan?


A nice, thick, rare steak. With the blood oozing out, fresh cut from the butcher. I wondered if I could pan-fry a thick hunk of human steak?

Better yet, pass on pan-frying homo sapiens. Fresh bloodflow from the jugular was what would really whet the appetite.

Jesus, what is going on? Why am I having thoughts of killing people? No, not necessarily killing people. I want to drink their blood. What a strange feeling it is.

I racked my brain for some sort of memory of what happened. Let’s start with what I know. First, I know I was bitten. Now, who exactly bit me?

My brain was fuzzy, as if I was suffering a concussion, but one thing stood out to me. More accurately, one person.


Her name was Erika. Did she have a last name? Not that I remembered, but that didn’t mean jack shit. Okay, so Erika bit me. More like she sucked all my blood and left me dying in the street. Or some version of that, anyway; I’m afraid I can’t remember. You know, fuzzy memory and all.

So, here I was, holed up in my tiny apartment, contemplating the meaning of life. Not the meaning of life as your typical philosopher might interpret it. More like the meaning of life for someone who had no control over his ambitions. A man who had literally died and been thrown into an unknown world, not knowing who he was supposed to be or what the actual fuck was happening to him.


Except that I was hungry. There was something inside me that controlled me. And it sure as hell didn’t feel like me that was in control. I was afraid I would kill the first person that I came into contact with, no matter who it was. Jehovah’s Witnesses had better not decide that today was the day for a conversion.

This hunger… Was that what I should call it? Yes. For now, at least. It was all I could think about. It’s like there was a force, so strong that I couldn’t begin to control it, pulling on me. There was an insatiable yearning to go outside and find something to eat. Not something, but someone. I had to regain control over my thoughts. I had to regain control over my actions before I did something I’d regret.

So, first things first: I must find Erika and figure out what happened to me. Well, I know what happened to me. I saw my fangs when I looked in the mirror last night. I thought vampires weren’t supposed to have a reflection. 

I was standing in front of the mirror, minding my own business and trying to figure out what the fuck I saw, exactly. I looked normal, as far as normal goes. Except that I had a bite mark on my neck. It wasn’t there just now, so I’m guessing that it healed. As I was standing at the mirror, I began thinking about that uncontrollable hunger. That was when my fangs popped out.

It took a few minutes, but I actually learned to control the fangs. I could retract and extend them on command. It was a little like flexing a muscle, but not really. Who was I kidding? I had no fucking idea what was going on or how to explain it.

If the fangs weren’t enough of a hint, the dead body I’d left sucked dry last night definitely was. Tom, my neighbor, just happened to be outside―yeah, I didn’t exactly stop to ask him why he was in his front yard at two-thirty in the morning―when I awoke from my… transformation? Is that what this was?

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