Today I am one of the stops on the blog tour for Unfinished Business by SC Cunningham. This is book two in the David trilogy. I will be sharing an extract from the novel. There is also an international giveaway going on for a hardback copy!
He loved being him… he got away with murder.
She loved being her… until she met him.
The steamy roller coaster ride of psychotic David’s obsession with his childhood sweetheart, a skilled mix of fuelled tension, dark humour and pulsating sex scenes.
With the help of her gutsy friends, fun-loving city girl Tara Warr is the only victim to survive David Howard’s death list. Whilst lounging in prison the hypnotic sexual tour de force enlists an eager recruit, seduces a prison warden and relocates to the sunnier climes of Mexico, a freedom short-lived when his charred remains are found in the fire of a plastic surgeon’s clinic. The police cease their search, finally Tara and her friends can relax, David is dead.
Laughter soon turns to fear when he communicates via Tara’s laptop that he is very much alive, knows their every move and is ready to finish what he started. He is among them, but who? He has a brand new face.
Tara has had enough, time to turn the tables and make him suffer. A woman unafraid of death is a dangerous thing. Has David finally met his match?
Extract of Unfinished Business:
3am, Bedroom, Apartment, Chelsea, London, England
Oh so gently, not to wake her, he pulled back the bed sheet and slowly eased her legs apart. The cool night air teased naked skin and pumped her senses on high alert. Delicious, pulsing excitement built between her legs… he’s here, he’s here!
Eyes tight shut, breaths shallow, limbs ragdoll limp, she faked sleep, desperately wanting to peek through lashes, but it was too risky.
Within the stillness of the dark room she could make out the soft rise and fall of measured breaths, and feel the heat of cold, calm eyes burning into her. The devastatingly handsome David Howard was standing over her bed, silent, broody, menacing, leisurely taking in the view of her exposed body.
He’d brought his camera.
A chill went through her, instinctively she wanted to grab the sheet and cover up, but dare not move for fear of losing him.
She waited, and waited… what is he doing?
The sound of a zipper and the rustle of clothes falling to the floor… shit, he’s undressing!
Her heart pumped, her hips intuitively tilted upwards, inviting… no, no, no… calm, don’t blow it… she masked the movement, pretending to shift in her sleep.
More silence… now what?
She quietly begged… touch me… please… just touch me… the anticipation killing her.
His breathing started to labour, a soft slapping, chafing of skin on skin, building in speed, he let out a low back-of-the-throat groan… he’s wanking, he’s standing over me and wanking.
She fought the urge to smile, to sit up and take him in her mouth… wait.
He moved to the end of the bed and leaned forward; the mattress dipped as he crawled up between her legs and knelt between thighs, the tingling warmth of his skin brushed hers. She wanted to wrap her legs around his hips and pull him onto her, but instead she lay still, feigning non interest, feigning sleep… wait.
He stretched up to the window above her bed and slowly pulled back the curtain, careful not to make a sound. A yellow streetlamp glow bathed the room, highlighting the curves of her beautiful body, he knelt in silence, staring, for what seemed like an age, driving her nuts… do something damn it, do something!.. she silent-screamed.
As if he could hear, he leaned forward and tenderly trailed strong, agile fingers the length of her inner thighs, easing them further apart… oh my god. Her hips lifted in reply, every morsel of her being ached for him to be inside her. She was wet, very wet.
The bed creaked with warning as he lowered his head to blow warm teasing air between open legs. Her breath caught, longing pulled at her stomach… oh fuck!
Blood pumped her groin, juices eased lips apart, glistening, twinkling at him to enter.
‘I know you’re awake,’ he whispered, his voice low and hoarse.
‘Don’t move, keep your eyes closed… you’re going to like this.’
He dipped his head and opened his mouth.
About the Author:
British Author S C Cunningham (The Penance List, Unfinished Business and The Deal) creates psychological and paranormal thrillers with a skilled mix of fueled tension, dark humor, and pulsating sex scenes. Her works offer a fresh level of sincerity and authority, rare in fiction.
Cunningham writes what she knows. Abducted as a child, she survived; and every night for months afterward, she prayed to God, asking for a deal. This personal journey sparked the fuse behind the intriguing and riveting fictional world she portrays in The Deal, the first in the Fallen Angel Series. Twenty years later she crossed paths with a violent serial attacker, thus sowing the seed for her thrillers The Penance List and Unfinished Business part of The David Trilogy. She is currently working on Book III For My Sins.
An ex-model, British born of Irish roots, she married a rock musician and has worked in the exciting worlds of rock music, film, sports celebrity management and as a Crime Investigator for the Police – Wanted & Absconder Unit, Intelligence Analyst, Major Crime Team, Investigations Hub.
Having worked in the music to film industry, she writes with film in mind. The Penance List has been adapted to film screenplay.
Win a hardback copy of Unfinished Business!
*Terms and Conditions –Worldwide entries welcome. Please enter using the Rafflecopter box above. The winner will be selected at random via Rafflecopter from all valid entries and will be notified by Twitter and/or email. If no response is received within 7 days then I reserve the right to select an alternative winner. Open to all entrants aged 18 or over. Any personal data given as part of the competition entry is used for this purpose only and will not be shared with third parties, with the exception of the winners’ information. This will passed to the giveaway organiser and used only for fulfilment of the prize, after which time I will delete the data. I am not responsible for despatch or delivery of the prize.