– ‘The Magic of Wor(l)ds’ blog is a hobby, reviews and other bookish stuff on this site are done for free. –

Today I’m on the ‘Bitten’ blogtour, organized by Love Books Tour.
To promote this book I have an excerpt, but before I let you read it first some ‘basic’ information.
About the Author :
Born in South Wales, Lee Allen was writing from a young age, developing his fascination with mystery, thrillers and the supernatural.
His debut novel, Those Crimes of Passion, a crime thriller, was published in 2012. He followed this with the novella Alone, a supernatural mystery, in 2014; and a second novella, The Jack O’Lantern Men, a horror chiller, in 2015.
His short story collection, Whispers from the Dead of Night, a hybrid of horror and multiple sub-genres, was published in early 2020, preceded by downloads of two of the stories: A Deathly Shade of Pale, at Hallowe’en 2019; and ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas, at Christmas 2019.
His new novel, ‘Bitten’, was published on Valentine’s Day 2021.
Synopsis :
A tale of murder, fear and desire…
A serial murder investigation draws near its conclusion. For seven years the killer has evaded capture, but the police finally have their prime suspect in custody – a man who claims to be a vampire over three hundred years old.
PC Holleigh Ryder is tasked with the most unsettling and challenging assignment of her career. All she wants is to get to the truth and achieve justice for the murdered women, but this has been no ordinary case and it is far from over.
The vampire has his own endgame in mind, one that may leave the police praying they had left the damned undisturbed in their graves.
Amazon
Excerpt :
Slivers of moonlight glittered through the slats of the blinds, which clacked together gently, rousing Holleigh from her light slumber. She turned over and rubbed her eyes, screwing them half-closed in an effort to decipher the blur of her bedside clock.
The blinds clacked again, startling her. The window was open, the wind moving the slats back and forth behind the curtains, which were half drawn, billowing slightly outwards. She hugged her goose-pimpled torso under the cotton and rose from the bed, surprised she had managed any sleep at all. She felt nauseous with nerves, anxious at the outcome of the impending operation.
Her mind drifted once again to the argument she’d had with Ethan several days earlier. It had not been pleasant. She had a job to do tonight and he did not react well to it. She recalled the rage in his eyes and his raised voice, his mockery at her faith in what her job stood for and that justice would prevail.
There is no justice, he had told her, only the means-justified end crafted by those powerful enough to pull the strings.
Recalling his expression of hatred for what she represented, the twisting feeling in her gut brought her close to tears. Years of emotional strain, both personal and professional, were to be put to the test tonight. Many, she knew, would be of the opinion she had made it far worse for herself. She had become distracted with Ethan and she should have expected his reaction and his feelings on the subject of what she had done; what she proposed to do. She had the sudden thought that she may not survive it. But the wheels were already in motion.
She reached past the blinds and slammed the window beside the door that opened on to the narrow balcony outside the apartment, hoping to shut out the cold. Love bites on her breasts and thighs glowed purple in the silver light. With the rest of her body gripped in a vice of cold, she still felt the heat in those wounds, while her vulva throbbed with warming sensitivity. She drew the curtains tight and sat back on the edge of the bed. She recalled Ethan’s blazing eyes, the twist of his mouth, the contortion of his face, his scorn and contempt.
Then he had kissed her. She still felt the force of that kiss even now, as his whole body clashed against hers. They made love with an aggression that she still felt jarring, conjuring conflicted thoughts and emotions. There was something raw and vulnerable in the aftermath of a sexual encounter. To have succumbed to animal desire and allowed another to physically experience you so intimately. It was both comforting and unsettling.
She let her body drop back on the bed and closed her eyes. She had simply to wait. She slid her black cotton shirt dress up around her waist, her fingers slipping beneath her black lace hipsters. She could withstand the burgeoning desire no longer, the thoughts of him that invaded her mind, the desperate need for him to invade her body over and over again. Her fingers felt cold as she touched herself, her fingertips circling, stroking. She closed her eyes, chewing her lip.
How many watched her curtained windows from outside? Waiting for movement. Within, she stoked secret desire. Still, days later, she could smell the sex in the room from her and Ethan’s passion. It was almost time now, the reason for Ethan’s wrath. She recalled his dominion over her, overcome now by the effect he had upon her. She let herself cry out, a soft emission piercing the night air. She sighed, allowing a smile to linger on her lips.
She pulled her dress back down her legs, getting up off the bed and walking down the corridor to the bathroom to freshen up and change into fresh underwear. Over the sound of the running tap, she heard something that may have come from outside. She switched off the tap, listening intently.
The tinkling of smashing glass came from the bedroom.
She walked on bare feet to the bathroom door, looking down the corridor to the room at the end. Quietly, she moved into the corridor and approached her bedroom. The moonlight cast a faint shadow on the floor ahead. Her curtains were parted.
Reaching the bedroom door, she peered around the architrave into the room. Seeing nothing, she edged around the doorframe and inside, looking at the shattered window visible between the gap in the curtains.
The moonlight shifted around her. Before she could react, hands gripped her wrists, fingernails that felt like claws digging into her skin. She cried out and was spun around, a long finger tilting her chin upwards. His eyes were beautiful, shining a deep crimson from the midst of the silver flooding the room. She gazed at them, breath catching in her throat.
He kissed her mouth slowly. She tasted metal. He stooped and touched her neck with his lips. She felt her orgasm rising again, feeling a sharpness piercing her skin, groaning as the man drew on the fresh wounds.
A crash invaded her senses, accompanied by shouting and activity spilling into the corridor. He was pulled away from her and she became aware of his snarling and hissing words, but could not decipher their meaning.
A hand reached out to steady her. Looking up, she saw her superior, Detective Superintendent O’Neill, beside her.
“You’re okay, PC Ryder, it’s over. We’ve got him. We finally got him.”
The Magic of Wor(l)ds