Catalina, Queen of the Nightlings: The Nativity

By J. Lee Roberts

Adventures of a Sexy Seductress

On a dark and stormy autumn night back in 1969, thieves broke into a Sicilian oratory and stole Caravaggio’s masterpiece, the Nativity. To this day, authorities are still on the hunt. With a 20-million-dollar reward for its retrieval, claims to its location have flooded the FBI database. Some say the theft was commissioned by the Mafia, others report that greedy amateurs seeing a television program about the Italian treasure decided to act. Where the police have failed, one woman will succeed.

Once again Catalina is on the prowl. And neither mobsters nor monsters can stop her from seducing her way to the truth.

Join the Queen of the Nightlings on yet another steamy adventure and see whether or not you can decipher fact from fantasy.

Reader Advisory: Be forewarned, the story within contains X-rated tales of a Nightlings, naughty escapades.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Luminosity Publishing LLP
• Release date: Dec 30, 2018
• ISBN: 9781910899496

J. Lee Roberts

J. Lee Roberts spends her time between the majestic Hawaiian Islands and the soft, rolling foothills of central California. She loves dancing and experiencing live music. She spends her days tinkering in her garden, where she grows an abundance of fruit, vegetables, and fragrant flowers. She spends her nights snuggling with her hunky, blue-eyed partner. When not dancing, gardening, or snuggling, J. Lee enjoys spending time with the girls. Anything can happen at a girls night; naughty photo shoots, poker tournaments, and the occasional solstice celebration are just some of the crazy things they get up to on an all girls night. Catalina, Queen of the Nightlings, Volume 1: Cleopatra’s Pearls is the first of a long line of tales, involving a sexy seductress, who just can’t be satisfied. J. Lee Roberts is also in the process of finishing her first, full-length thriller.

Book preview

CATALINA, QUEEN OF THE NIGHTLINGS

VOLUME 4: THE NATIVITY

J. Lee Roberts

Adventures of a Sexy Seductress

On a dark and stormy autumn night back in 1969, thieves broke into a Sicilian oratory and stole Caravaggio’s masterpiece, the Nativity. To this day, authorities are still on the hunt. With a 20-million-dollar reward for its retrieval, claims to its location have flooded the FBI database. Some say the theft was commissioned by the Mafia, others report that greedy amateurs seeing a television program about the Italian treasure decided to act. Where the police have failed, one woman will succeed.

Once again Catalina is on the prowl. And neither mobsters nor monsters can stop her from seducing her way to the truth.

Join the Queen of the Nightlings on yet another steamy adventure and see whether or not you can decipher fact from fantasy.

Reader Advisory:  Be forewarned, the story within contains X-rated tales of a Nightlings, naughty escapades.

CATALINA, QUEEN OF THE NIGHTLINGS

VOLUME 4: THE NATIVITY

J. LEE ROBERTS

WWW.LUMINOSITYPUBLISHING.COM

LUMINOSITY PUBLISHING LLP

CATALINA, QUEEN OF THE NIGHTLINGS

VOLUME 4: THE NATIVITY

Copyright © December 2015 J. Lee Roberts

ISBN: 978-1-910899-49-6

Cover Art by Poppy Designs

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

No part of this literary work may be reproduced in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without the written permission of the publisher.

This is a work of fiction. All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

Dedication

To all who believe.

Chapter One

The morning started out like any other typical San Francisco day. The ever present fog, saturated with salt and brine, hovered throughout the city. It moved lazily among the multicolored, brick buildings, creeping into every crevice of the city’s wistful soul, a phenomena all San Franciscans must live with. However, if we get lucky, the intense, California sun just might burn off the haze by mid-afternoon, delighting us with a dazzling, picture-perfect day. But, like I said, this was a typical S.F. day. No matter how many inspirational postcards are printed, California’s sun was incapable of blasting through the waterlogged fog that had settled in, darkening the sky and dampening everyone’s clothing and spirits.

* * * *

His fangs slice deep into my flesh. The pain is severe, making me drip in anticipation for what I know is coming next. Greedy hands tug at my tired limbs. A wild snarl escapes my lips as I struggle to free myself from my monstrous captors. In response to my pathetic attempts, they slather and snort convinced of their domination. Exhausted from my efforts, I’m thrown forward in their grasps as the creature holding my leg sinks his teeth sharply into my thigh. His actions trigger the rest of the ghouls, and the feeding frenzy begins. They rip and paw at my clothing creating access for additional hungry mouths.

I open my eyes to a dim, candlelit prison to witness eight, strong men savagely draining my blood, my essence, my power. My emaciated veins desperately protest as they groan in delight, savoring my mysterious flavor. Lost in my own sadistically ravenous proclivities, I moan passionately in response. Immediately, I regret my momentary loss of focus but it’s too late.

I think this one likes it. Pale eyes and a blood-smeared smile look up at me. He releases his grip to slide his hand further up my thigh. It creeps slowly toward my double-crossing crotch, which is currently pulsating in preparation. I scream and try to jerk away from his desperate and devious touch. If my tormenter finds me wet and willing, the jigs up. My struggles only deepen his resolve to take what he wants. His craving is contagious, infecting all of my captors. Fingers claw at my breasts. The last fragments of my clothing are stripped from my body. I take a deep breath hoping my salvation is near, that’s when I hear his voice.

She’s mine! The roar forces the frantic men to bow in submission. Their abrupt desertion leaves me hanging, and I drop down to my knees. As he strides toward me, I can just make out his black, leather boots through the haze of choking smoke that saturates the dungeon. Exhausted and drained, my eyes close and I collapse onto the cold, stone floor.

* * * *

After what had turned out to be a ten-month leave of absence, I had given my irreplaceable and incredibly understanding assistant, Tonya, a much deserved week off. Which, leaves me sulking in my office, wishing she was here to brighten my mood. Now, I cannot stress how important my assistant is to me. For what other mortal would work for and put up with an insatiable succubus who sexually seduces even the most innocent of humans—­customers? For a really good reason, though, I must express. ­

 The girl is a gem. In fact, she doesn’t even seem to mind that I am constantly being bombarded by mythological monsters. Who subsequently drag me into all sorts of devious and dangerous adventures. Such missions, usually result in her being left alone to tend the shop at a moment’s notice for unknown durations of time. As invaluable as her ability to keep a secret and to always be on call may be, what truly makes her employee of the millennium, is her mind. She may be exotic and sexy as all hell, but my assistant is also one of the most brilliant humans I have ever met in the trade—the antiquities trade that is. Tonya has an eidetic memory, plus a distinguished education to boot. However, even with beauty, brains and bona-fictions, she still possesses one vastly more important element that allows us to maintain a professional, and what I can only hope to be, a long, fruitful relationship. Tonya, though it breaks my heart, is immune to my charms.

Just to clear up any confusion, I am a Nightling. Okay, so that didn’t help. I come from a race, not of this planet. Yes, I’m technically an alien, though I don’t have green skin, nor have I ever administered an anal probe—well not without permission of course—although I have lived over a thousand of your lifetimes. Sadly, I am not an immortal. However, in relation to a human lifespan, it’s not hard to see the misunderstanding. Earthlings, have labeled me a succubus, a whore of Beelzebub. Alas, I must confess, I do not have a tail nor do I possess horns. And as far as being a spawn from hell, well, I’m sure my mother has a few stories of my teenage years she would like to share. The closest Hollywood ideology you could compare me with, is the legend of the Vampire. An undead, bloodsucking immortal. That clichéd definition could not be further from the truth of what I really am. I am a living, breathing, heart pumping Succubus. However, there probably are Vampires living in your community. Though we both come from similar worlds, our dining habits are rather different. The actual expressions, Succubus and Vampire, relates to the