Girls Gone Carnal: Lesbian Vamps, Witches and Weres [NOOK Book]

Furry. Vicious. Wicked.

Lesbian shifters, vampires, and witches come in all shapes and sizes. From the humblest mouse to the most ferocious cougar, from maids and their mistresses to urban vamps and the women they lick, these stories are sure to inspire chills, thrills, and delicious shivers:

Milady’s Bath ~a Gothic tale from a Lady’s maid at midnight

Mrs. Fox and the Cat of Nine Tails ~a fairy tale cat seduces her mistress

Sneak ~a mouse shifter saves the day in a backwoods bordello

Sparrow Takes Flight ~a wind witch leaves as often as she comes

Blood Lust ~this vamp plays with knives

Wild Things ~a deaf witch meets her match in the rainforest

Taken from Behind ~cougar shifters must be extra careful

Blood Whore ~urban fantasy from a student just vamping for the cash

WARNINGS: This title contains blood, fur, and explicit lesbian sex.

EXCERPT:

I have no specific recollection of how Cat came into my life. One day she was just there, lying on my bed. She seemed to know me, I seemed to know her, and after one of the longest dry spells known to dykedom, that was good enough.

“Come to bed,” she purred. She always seemed to be purring. Maybe that’s why she was called Cat. I couldn’t remember if it was a nickname or a diminutive of Cathleen or Catalina or something. At that point I was too embarrassed to ask. I was supposed to know her. The way she talked, it seemed like she’d been in my bed for ages, and I was only just waking up to her.

“Look at the time,” Cat said. She drew open the bed sheets, inviting me in. Had I ever seen her in that cotton cami or those little ruffled boy shorts? Everything about her—even her clothes—seemed hazily familiar, like I knew them from a dream.

“Come on,” she begged, with a pretty pout on her pink lips. “It’s late.”

“Late? It’s only two.” I felt like she ought to know I didn’t consider two in the morning late, but at the same I didn’t really know what she knew. “I work better at night,” I explained, but that didn’t seem relevant to her.

“You shouldn’t stay up sketching all night,” she teased. Her voice had the warmth of a cashmere blanket. When she spoke, I wanted to wrap myself in her words. “Do you want to turn into a vampire or something?”

The innocence of her tone made me chuckle. “Yup, that’s it,” I said. “All artists want to be vampires. That’s why we work under the cover of darkness.”

“Oh.” She stretched out like a tabby. The way she looked at me, with total honesty, made me wonder if she didn’t take me a little too seriously. But when she raised her eyebrows and crossed her long legs like a pin-up model, work was the last thing on my mind.