NOTE: This book is FREE during the KDP Select Tour, August 17 – 21.
Ruth Scott can read the energy of every person she meets. Then she meets Deacon Walker. She can see his ice-blue eyes, his black hair, and his gorgeous face. But this beautiful stranger has no aura.
Deacon is just as unsettled by Ruth—and, having spent more than two hundred years ushering souls to Purgatory, Deacon is seldom shocked by anything. As he helps Ruth to understand her true nature, she awakens desires that he decided long ago a Reaper can’t afford.
A demon invasion forces Deacon to confront the darkness in his own past even as he fights to save the human souls he’s charged to protect. When he’s taken captive, his first concern is for Ruth. But Ruth just might be able to save herself—and the Reaper she can’t live without—if she can learn to wield her newfound powers.
“I don’t want any trouble, Kylen.” Nervous, she scanned the parking lot again for a possible ally. “I have cold stuff in the trunk and errands to run. If you want Deacon, I’m sure you know how to find him.”
“You know my name? How sweet. Then I guess Deacon’s told you about me?” He eased up closer and cocked his head at an odd angle that made his eyes look even creepier…if that were even possible.
“I heard him call you by your name when we were in…down…below,” she said, unable to call it what it was: Purgatory.
He was right in her face now. Uncomfortable and scared, she palmed the knife in her jacket pocket, wondering when and whether she should show it or use it. Kylen slid a dry hand down the side of her cheek and around the back of her neck, pulling her closer to his face. She stiffened and vacillated between stabbing him through her jacket pocket and screaming.
He was so close. She could hurt him at least. Screaming might also be effective, but either of those options would lead to lots of questions, possibly a confrontation with the police, and the rest of the day would be toast. Besides, she had no explanation that would not land her under “observation” for several hours, if not longer.
She released the knife. Instead, she slid her hand into her pants pocket and extracted a handful of salt, hurling it directly into his eyes. He cursed and bellowed like a wounded animal, clawing at his face. She pushed him hard, and he stumbled far enough backward that she was able to get the Lincoln’s big-ass door open and scramble inside. Slamming the door shut, she popped the electric locks. She turned the motor over, slammed the car into Reverse and peeled out of the parking lot and onto Main Street.
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AUTHOR Bio and Links:
She adores beasties of all sorts, fictional as well as real, and has a farm full of them in her Southwest Missouri home, including: one child, one husband, two dogs, two cats, a dozen hens, thousands of Italian bees, and a guinea pig.
She may or may not keep a complete zombie apocalypse bug-out bag in her trunk at all times, including a machete. Just. In. Case.
Find Dark Urban Fantasy, Paranormal & SciFi Romances here at my Amazon Author Page http://amzn.to/1gMV6Db