Catalina, Queen of the Nightlings - Book Tour and Giveaway

Cleopatra's Pearls
Catalina, Queen of the Nightlings Volume 1
by J. Lee Roberts
Genre: Paranormal Romance

“I’m not your average monster. In the past, I have toppled, liberated, and even ruled kingdoms. Believe me, I’m over that lifestyle. My motto is, ‘Learn from the past; love in the present’.

“By day, I’m Catalina Purdy, proprietor of Purdy Antiques. By night, under cover of darkness, I expose my true nature.

“I enjoy; long walks on the beach, candlelit dinners, easy men, and feasting off the chemicals they produce when sexually aroused.

“I also love my job. I am eternally thirsty for the chance to hunt down rare, exotic pieces. However, I’m not hard to please, I’ll take any piece I can get, and I always get what I want.”

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


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​"Mmm", I breathe in one of my favorite perfumes, sex... My fangs extract, and I sink them into his sweet, soft flesh, and drink in his intoxicating elixir.
The endorphins I deliver are a gift. To him the process is painless... He stands dazed and utterly confused against the wall. “Sorry you won’t be able to remember this,” I apologize, walking away. Like I said, fast food...
Now, I know exactly what you’re thinking, “Not another vampire.” Yes, all the signs are there, but I adamantly refute the title. I am a Nightling. Not any insignificant Nightling though. I am Catalina, Queen of the Nightlings.
I am an ancient creature...I have fangs that retract, which are capable of extracting the hormone oxytocin from the human bloodstream. My razor-sharp teeth work two ways. First, they extract the hormones I need to survive, and second, they pump back in the blood, you will most definitely need. However, I have complete control as to whether I give back the fundamental fluid. I usually do. Usually.
Oxytocin is the hormone that is secreted when the body feels pleasure, arousal, or passion. Enter the succubus. The hormone keeps me strong, fed, and eternally beautiful. My body forever craves the chemicals released during sexual arousal. Which is why I am always horny. I also release endorphins, which act as painkillers when I feed. Endorphins produce a soothing, peaceful sensation to my victims. They also produce a drug like dependency. That is precisely why, I always secrete an inhibitor. The inhibitor is so that my food, doesn’t follow me home, with flowers. It doesn't always work, but who's complaining?
I own a quaint antique shop in San Francisco, I am always on the prowl for rare, unattainable pieces. One of the many benefits of being an immortal, is that it allows me to buy new objects, in hopes that they eventually will turn into priceless antiques in the future.
A long time ago I was separated from a precious gift, given by my mentor. I was on the verge of reclaiming them from none other than Cleopatra Queen of the Nile. I had them within my grasp when her ego got the best of her, and I once again let them slip away. Word has spread that my precious pearls have resurfaced, and this time I don't care who I have to screw to get them back. I only hope it is someone hot.


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The Aztec Goddess
Catalina, Queen of the Nightlings Volume 2

Adventures of a sexy seductress

Witches, shifters, and shamans. Oh my… Catalina is at it again, and as always, no one is off limits. Strong, smart, and sexy, the Queen of the Nightlings is all but invincible. All except for one little weakness—twins.

Deep in the heart of the jungle an ancient power calls. As Catalina searches for its source, she discovers a lost Viking warrior washed ashore after a sudden squall. Although she is forced to abandon her prey, Catalina knows she will never get over the mysterious stud without at least one little taste. Trouble is—while the Cat was out to play, tall, blond and handsome has gotten away.

The journey is only beginning when she finds her prize has been captured by a crafty coven. Catalina may be a monster, but what the witches have in store for the warrior is downright evil.

Join Catalina, if you dare. Read along, as the sexy succubus seduces her way out of yet another steamy adventure.


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​"I followed the two, Scandinavian Vikings all day, as they fruitlessly, searched, the outer perimeters, of the village. Each time they drew near, to what the villagers called, the 'great power', the men's attention would be drawn, toward a different direction."
"I had seen this type of effect before. There were several, explanations for such behavior, and they all included witch craft. What the men couldn't see, but I could, was a dense, swirling vortex, of molecular, magnetic energy. The vortex however, was being shielded by a thin, foggy layer, of magic."
"The shadows started to stretch longer, and longer, as the sun gently set, in the distance. In haste, the shipwrecked Vikings, shouted for Dorian's return, but in the end, they returned to the village, empty-handed. Too bad for them, great for me. 'Let me handle this gentleman, it appears your wayward companion, had strayed into my realm,' "I whispered, to their diminishing steps."
"Once my familiar friend darkness, had cloaked me in its embrace, I headed straight for the 'great power'. As I grew nearer, I could sense two, distinctly, separate, energy sources.
"The first, was a spell. A very powerful one. So powerful in fact, that the nearby villagers had long been, scared straight, of ever penetrating its borders. The enchantment, in all truth, was a rather simple one. Any person, who ventured near, would get the sudden impulse, to change directions. I'm sure, that as the years passed by, the villagers had grown wise to the phenomenon. Yet, knowing something strange is happening, and actually comprehending why, it is happening, are two very different things. The villagers had been right, in just steering clear of the area completely."
"The second source, was a primordial power, pulsating directly from the earth. This energy supply, was much more powerful. No sorcerer, had conjured the force surging from beyond the spell. This, was earth magic."
"As I have mentioned before. I can choose to view the molecular web of life. Each element, radiates its own distinct color, as it bumps, and connects, into every other element. It's a calm, predictable dance, that has dragged on since the dawn of existence. A vortex however, is quite another thing. As each molecule, from dust, to human cells, encroaches the energy source. The particles take on a translucent, metallic shield, that embraces, strengthens, and energizes its host. The phenomenon is not lasting. As a host leaves the vortex, the shield slowly releases its hold, and returns to its source."
"The vortex itself, is probably why the spell was cast to begin with. Someone, or something, had set up shop near the portal, and they weren't about, to share its power."

The Last Seeing Stone
Catalina, Queen of the Nightlings Volume 3

Aboard a mythological vessel that can morph its size to accommodate as many warriors and weapons as its burly, blond Captain requires, hordes of delectable elves desperately yearn for the one thing that will bring them salvation. Their only hope lies with a sexy succubus who is more interested in having a good time than saving the day. As the enchanted ship sails off into the sunset, a scandalous seductress finds herself caught up in the middle of an epic quest.

Surrounded by the stuff of legends, Catalina reveals how fine of line reality and mythology really walk. Although she is torn between the man that loves her, the man that wants her, and an unquenchable appetite she cannot appease, Catalina must set her personal life aside, and use her seductive powers of persuasion to save the world.

A magical voyage awaits those with the courage to join the Queen of the Nightlings on one of her many escapades. Each complete tale is steamier than the last leaving the reader burning for more.


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​ I stand motionless as these Earth shattering conclusions roll through my mind. It's only the delectable scent of male hormones, that ultimately shatter my stillness.
"Excuse me ma'am, I'm looking for Ms. Purdy. My name is James. I'm with Sunrise Builders, she should be expecting me."
Shit, I totally forgot I told Tonya to hire a carpenter to fix the damage Dorian caused in my dominatrix den. Apparently I forgot to tell her I needed a new contractor. Well, it's too late now, I'll just have to control myself, it shouldn't be too hard. Oh, but he is.
"I'm Ms. Purdy. James is it?" I hold my hand out for him to shake. I am a professional after all. I can handle this. His strong, callused hand engulfs mine. His big, brown, smoldering eyes look directly into mine, and he flashes a dazzling smile. He speaks to me in a deep, sensual voice, that tickles me and all the right spots.
"Nice to meet you Ms. Purdy. How can I help you today?" It's a simple question but my mind goes wild with all the possibilities.
"I have some damage that needs repaired on the third floor. However, you will be exposed to some very private areas of my home. I'm afraid I will have to require your signature on a nondisclosure agreement."
"I'm well aware of your conditions Ms. Purdy. That is why I came myself and not one of my workers."
"Very good. Shall we get on with it?"
"Lead the way."
Phase one complete. I manage to get him in and out of my office without incident. Now, if I can only walk away after I've showed him the work that needs to be done. Yeah right, with that rock-hard ass.
You see, the thing is, James is a very sensitive issue. If I had even one decent bone in my hot, smoking body. I would've sent him away from my vile presence the moment he walked through the door. The problem is, I don't. I am forever ruled by my insatiable lust for all things sexual.
I can sense your disgust towards me. You know as well as I, that if I even show James the slightest of interest, he will again fall head over heels in love with me. He will be drawn to my presence like a moth to the flame. Men such as this, is the very reason I have an inhibitor in the first place. The only trouble is, I could really use a dose of his puppy love, after the kick in the gut from Dorian. Besides, it's not that I don't have feelings for James. He is all I could ever want in a man. Strong, sexy, sweet, and did I mention he's a demon in the sack.
I find myself actually salivating, as I watch his perfect ass march up my stairway. His tight jeans, leave nothing to my imagination and I'm truly grateful for it. The swishing sound of fabric being brushed against his thick, muscular thighs has gotten my panties so wet, I considered taking him there and then.
I don't know what it is about a man in a tool-belt, but it drives me wild. I want to start knocking holes in the wall, just so I can watch him work.

The Nativity
Catalina, Queen of Nightlings Volume 4

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.


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​ 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 quadrant of the solar system from which we derive. Not quite so romantic now, are we?
I admit our dining habits appear to be the same, from the outside looking in, that is. We both have retractable fangs that have the ability to draw blood from our food source, and yes, we both have super-human strength and senses. Even with all our similarities, we differ in the most important way. Our food. Myself and fellow Succubae must ingest large doses of the human hormone oxytocin in order to survive. It just so happens that this particular chemical is created when the body is aroused or feels passion. I have the fortunate ability to extract this particular hormone from the blood stream, and then I can pump the vital fluid, minus my meal, back into my source. Waste not.
Now, Vampires on the other hand, feed off of the chemical adrenaline. Which, in my own opinion, is why they always appear so scary and why they generally choose not to replace their victims blood. Adrenalin production is exponentially higher when one’s life is on the line. Fortunately, I rely on a much more pleasant means of procuring my meals. You see, I conveniently produce an intoxicating pheromone which lures my victims—I mean lovers, to me. And that brings me back to my assistant Tonya. Infuriating as it may be, her sexy ass is completely immune to my love dust. So, as it happens, we can work in a completely sex-free environment. It’s utterly repulsive. On the bright side, I do have a completely responsible and reliable employee who deals with all my impulses and keeps me and my shop in perfect balance. BORING, yet productive.

Gold Rush
Catalina, Queen of the Nightlings Volume 5

Adventures of a Sexy Seductress

Torn between a simple life in San Francisco and her calling as a Queen, Catalina must choose her fate. There’s just one thing standing in her way — Werewolves. Will her lust for love and treasure, derail her future or will she fulfil her every desire?

Join Catalina, on another erotic adventure, if you dare.

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


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​As I notice the light beginning to fade, I realize it’s time to get serious. If James does indeed intend to stay the night, I must be prepared, which means, I need to feed.
As I clip on the final lacy strap to my garter belt, I glance up at the mirror to inspect the final outcome. Black fishnet stockings stop short at my thighs, drawing the eye to the delicate ribbons that lead up and under a short-pleated skirt. Its blood-red fabric barely skims the bottom of my ass. A form fitted, black leather corset precariously holds my full breast in check. I smile to myself in appreciation and slip on a pair of four-inch black stilettos. I’m about to head out for the night when I realize I’m still sporting a prim, tight bun. I quickly release the constrictive knot, and my long auburn hair falls around my shoulders in waves. I put on some blood-red lipstick as a last measure and dash down the stairs and out the door in a fury, desperate to see what will be on the menu.
I don’t even bother with an overcoat tonight. I’m in a hurry and sex sells. I make it to the Blood Moon, the local Goth club, in record time. Fortunately for me, my fav fast food joint always has a variety of fresh meat to choose from. Because I’m working on a limited time frame, I hit up the drive-thru window, or my equivalent, the ally. Like always, it doesn’t take long for a single girl dressed as I am to get approached.
“Hey, baby, you must be waiting for me.” He’s a big, brawny man. Long stringy hair of an undetermined color and way too much alcohol on his breath. I may be ancient, but his scruffy, stone-washed blue jeans and matching jacket — absentee sleeves and all — are completely outdated. Beneath the overwhelming stench of Wild Turkey, I can smell bike oil and a hint of cheap cologne. Definitely not one of my fav’s but I’m desperate, and I hate to admit it, but I’ve had worse. My thought process tells me to just get it over with. A classic dine and dash. All I have to do is get him hard, and my animal instincts will take over.
I swallow my pride and answer his stupid question with a demure smile while batting my thick, black eyelashes. I turn away from him and stroll toward the back of the alley. I don’t need witnesses ruining my dinner. Before I can even turn to signal for him to follow, he grabs me from behind. One of his callused hands grips my throat. He crams the other, down the front of my corset and viciously claws at my breast. I hear a seam rip on the expensive garment, and my blood boils. His filthy, searching hand, forces its way down my skirt causing more trauma to my outfit and finding an unobstructed path to my crotch.
“You were waiting for me,” he hisses in my ear. The smell of his rank breath nearly gags me. I really do need to stop doing this, I think. I hear his zipper go down and I know I’ve let this go too far. My plan was to get him hard, drink his blood, and leave him in a dazed stupor. One, two, three. He could have stumbled home in a blissful haze. However, assholes like this, who can’t even be happy accepting what is about to be given freely, who feel they must control and take whatever they want, really, I mean really piss me off. Normally, I would destroy this bastard on principle, but the fact that he ruined two of my fav garments in one night, well this calls for something a bit more sinister. I’m just about to put the smack down on this punk when a familiar scent, stops me cold.
“Let go of the woman and leave.” His rich, booming voice echoes off the brick walls, and I drip.
“Get lost pretty boy, we’re busy,” the biker spits and refocuses his energy on groping my breast.
“To be courteous, I will give you three seconds to vacate the premises,” my savior offers.
My attacker releases me and turns to face the intruder. “Listen, buddy—” but that’s all he gets out before I spring like a viper onto his back. I sink my razor-sharp fangs cruelly into his unshaven neck and drink greedily, savoring every oxytocin laced drop. My heated frenzy was such that I had neglected to return the bikers vital fluids needed for survival. The only thing that stopped me from drinking every last drop of the bastard’s blood and leaving him for the vultures was Dorian clearing his throat in an attempt to divert my attention.
All at once, I was aware of my surroundings, my existence. All color had faded from his rough, wind-burnt face. The asshole had dropped to one knee, pathetically clawing at my steel grip with his last remaining strength. Reluctantly, I pumped back in all the blood and plasma I could. He wouldn’t be riding and raping for a while, but he probably wouldn’t die either. Along with his blood, I injected a huge dose of my memory erasing toxin and left him to sag onto the cold, hard asphalt.
Shame and guilt hit me like the brick walls surrounding me, and I nearly collapsed beside my victim. And I would have if it wasn’t for Dorian catching me in his sure, strong arms. He held me as I shook. Shook from shame, shook with elation. Even though what I had done was wrong, I couldn’t help but feel elated due to the rush of chemicals invigorating every cell in my body. Sure I have been getting regular doses of oxytocin from James’s semen, but there is no substitute for drinking directly from the source.


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J. Lee Roberts was born in Washington and raised in Idaho. A true gypsy at heart she has been moving around ever sense. The development of her seductive character Catalina Purdy has led to four books in the Catalina, Queen of the Nightlings series; Cleopatra's Pearls, The Aztec Goddess, The last Seeing Stone and The Nativity. She currently resides in California with her two dogs and supportive husband.

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Aloha To All,
I just want to take a quick minute to acknowledge all those who work so hard keeping the Silver Dagger Book Tour, up and operational. Authors such as myself greatly appreciate these sites and the amazing people behind them. So thank you Silver Dagger and also a huge helping of gratitude to all who have taken the time to read this.

Writing in a relationship

As I sit at my desk composing this essay, I find myself distracted by the swaying palm fronds out my window and the chirping of birds calling me out to play in the yard. The trees need water the weeds need pulling yet here I sit talking with you. However tempting the outside world is to me, nature is not my usual distraction. In fact, I do the vast majority of my writing from the warm, cozy confides of my bed.

The curtains are drawn, the door is shut tight and every pillow on the bed has got me propped up into position. It's just me, my pen, and my 5 subject notebook. I furiously write as the thoughts and phrases race into my head. The words come so fast I can barley get them onto the paper. The perfect line has just popped into my head, when.... My amazing and supportive husband opens the door, "I brought you some coffee, love." My eyes flash red, snakes lurch and hiss from within my tangle of hair. COFFEE ??? COFFEE !!! I'm livid. How? Why?

Does he not know that even the slightest distraction can make me lose an entire page, or thought, or plot line? His only thoughts are for my well being. Food, sunlight, coffee... The nerve of our loved ones. Do they not know that during a writing session life stops. Nourishment is an after thought to art. I smooth down the serpents and calm down my dog, who has picked up on my energy. "Thank you." I say, as kindly as I can through gritted teeth. My husband shrinks away, averting his eyes least he be turned to stone and shuts the door on my inappropriate response to his kindness. Don't get me wrong I want to keep my husband. I want him to continue to be kind and generous. I just don't want it when I'm writing. It's hard to balance sanity and writing, or courtesy and writing, or anything else and writing, but I'm working on it.

J. Lee Roberts

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