I’m pleased to have fellow author Ellen Mint on the blog with her latest release, Claw: Coven of Desire Book 1. Learn about this steamy new series which releases on March 16th, and sink your CLAWS into romance! RAWR!
He’s not your typical werewolf-next-door.
Layla didn’t count on a sex demon appearing in her living room. Nor did she expect to find she’s a witch, tasked with protecting the mortal realm. And now her friend, fellow nursing student and impossible crush could be a potential killer?
She’s silently lusted after Cal for a year, knowing a guy that hot, sweet, and kind wouldn’t look twice at her. All their flirting was innocent and went nowhere until Ink—the incubus bound to her—ran into her life and bed. Next thing she knows, Cal’s growling at her while Ink flirts and women are being ripped apart by wild animals. Couldn’t the murder monster mystery wait until after finals?
She wanted to be a nurse, not a paranormal investigator, but Layla has no choice. Apparently, only witches can stop these creatures that she didn’t even know existed a month ago. But the deeper she digs, the more it looks like Cal’s deep in the middle of it all. How can she save her friend from the claws of a cult, keep her sex-craved demon happy and find a way to let both into her heart or bed?
Everyone who buys a copy of Claw will receive the short story Retail Hell free. Set between the events of Ink and Claw in the Coven of Desire series, Layla’s workday from hell is interrupted by her personal sex demon.
Welcome to Ink Between The Sheets
Your favorite craven and charming creature fresh from the bowels of hell is here to answer all your burning questions…and give you a few of your own. Please welcome Ink, the world’s only advice-slinging incubus.
Letter # 1
I’m torn and hope you can help me. Long story short, I’d been having some issues with my stepmother. My dad is NO help just leaving us to fight it out. When everything came to a head I had to leave the house just to get away from her. Things were going pretty good, I found a house with these seven guys that are so sweet. They got me my own special yogurt fridge and take me on hikes through the forest.
My big problem started when my stepmom tried to make up with a fruit bouquet. I forgot about my allergy (I feel so stupid for that), and with one bite of that apple I wound up in a coma. I’m much better now, but along the way to the hospital I was resuscitated by an EMT who’s been blowing up my phone. I don’t even know how he got my number and he keeps asking me out.
Should I go for it? I mean, he did save my life. And that sounds really romantic.
Snowed Over In Georgia
Good morrow, Snow. I hope you do not mind me calling you Snow. Ah, I’m certain you don’t as you seem to be easily browbeaten by any passing person with a pulse.
First order of business, the EMT who, I assume, plucked a hair from your head and utilized witchcraft to discern your phone number. A man of such feral vulgarity is disclosing to you an inordinate lack of charm. Such levels are typically only seen in bottom-dwelling groupers or slime molds. You would do best to steer clear unless your kink is to assure a man after five thrusts that you quite enjoyed his performance.
I prescribe you give in to your real desires—roast a plump peacock, invite the seven men who took you in to join you for the dinner, and discuss the details of a proper orgy. Do not skimp on your wildest demands, debauchery knows no limits when seven men in the woods are involved. I imagine at least two of them would quite like to be chained to the wall and watch. The rest…well, I’m sure you have your favorites and I will leave it up to you to discover how deep that well goes.
By the by, your stepmother is a witch. Put a circle of salt around your house before she transforms into an eagle and plucks you through the window.
Ink, the Orgy Pushing Demon
While I’m uncertain if this is not all a waste of time, I shall proceed. Last year at a company function, which required black-tie and social-climbing socializing, I had the unfortunate experience of meeting a man who enrages me on every level. I would have written off his dismissive tongue and callow demeanor were it not for discovering that my beloved sister is madly in love with his best friend. And this bastard had the audacity to say my sister isn’t good enough for his friend.
To make matters even more infuriating, this man has hired my firm to assist in renovating his summer home by the lake. Every day, I am forced to grit my teeth and get through another eight hours of his curt words and antagonistic gestures. Because my life is one ending tragedy, he’s begun to insist we meet even after work hours to solidify the plans already marked as finalized.
Even when I am not near him, I can hear his grating, snooty voice in my ear and smell his expensive cologne on my clothing. What, short of any illegal activities, can I do to rid myself of this problem?
Not Too Prideful To Ask For Help
Well, Prideful, do you have a pen handy? First, when he no doubt once again dismisses your thoughts, I want you to march him to a private room. With the full length of your spine, unleash all the vitriol you’ve been building upon the man without letting him get a word in.
After the two of you have ravished each other in a pique of pent-up passion liable to set his seventeenth-century writing desk in flames, you would do well to check the lock on the door or adjourn to a boudoir. I’d suggest somewhere with access to bonds and anal beads.
Be warned, if the man becomes so smitten he dares to suggest a proposal, you must refuse. If he persists, the lake would provide a handy bath to cool his tempers. It is up to you if you want to continue the desk-breaking sex with a man who drives you mad, or if you’d prefer to put him out of his misery now.
Turtles can make for excellent body disposal.
Ink, the Enemies Can Make Debauched Lovers Incubus
Thank you for entrusting your problems to my claws. If you wish to learn more about me, my exploits can be discovered between the pages of Claw. I am forever at the whims of my bond, Layla as she studies witchcraft, but am happy to take a few moments to delight in your mortals.
Never forget, life is too short for mortals to ignore their endless desires.
Ellen Mint adores the adorkable heroes who charm with their shy smiles and heroines that pack a punch. She has a needy black lab named after Granny Weatherwax from Discworld. Sadly, her dog is more of a Magrat.
When she’s not writing imposing incubi or saucy aliens, she does silly things like make a tiny library full of her books. Her background is in genetics and she married a food scientist so the two of them nerd out over things like gut bacteria. She also loves gaming, particularly some of the bigger RPG titles. If you want to get her talking for hours, just bring up Dragon Age.