Demon Chained Shadowfae ChroniclesBook FiveErica Hayes
Genre: paranormal romance, urban fantasy romance
ISBN: 9780992277505
Word Count: 83,000
Cover Artist: Ravven
Book Description:
A powerful djinni, enslaved to her lamp. An undead
thief, bound to a cruel demon's whim. A passion that will outlast death
itself...
A dark, delicious urban fantasy romance from the author of Shadowfae.
Jewel is a djinni of the lamp, an enchanted slave, bound to her owner by dark magical cravings she can't resist. She burns for freedom, and when her lamp is stolen—by Tam, a hot and dirty bad-boy thief—she vows to be rid of her new master at any cost. Even as she plots Tam's demise, the lamp's dark fascination makes her long to claim him as her own.
But the last thing Tam wants is a spellbound djinni who can't say 'no'. Cursed by a demon to suffer living death, he's tormented by undead longing for pain, pleasure, any sensation he can get. To have this exquisite, besotted Jewel at his bidding is pure torture... because Tam refuses to succumb to her magical allure.
Not when he knows she can't truly be attracted to an ever-dying freak. And not when he’s already on a mission from his cruel demon master: capture and deliver one djinni...
Warning: this novel contains a feisty magical heroine, a besotted fairy best friend and the hottest wise-ass dead-guy hero in town.
A dark, delicious urban fantasy romance from the author of Shadowfae.
Jewel is a djinni of the lamp, an enchanted slave, bound to her owner by dark magical cravings she can't resist. She burns for freedom, and when her lamp is stolen—by Tam, a hot and dirty bad-boy thief—she vows to be rid of her new master at any cost. Even as she plots Tam's demise, the lamp's dark fascination makes her long to claim him as her own.
But the last thing Tam wants is a spellbound djinni who can't say 'no'. Cursed by a demon to suffer living death, he's tormented by undead longing for pain, pleasure, any sensation he can get. To have this exquisite, besotted Jewel at his bidding is pure torture... because Tam refuses to succumb to her magical allure.
Not when he knows she can't truly be attracted to an ever-dying freak. And not when he’s already on a mission from his cruel demon master: capture and deliver one djinni...
Warning: this novel contains a feisty magical heroine, a besotted fairy best friend and the hottest wise-ass dead-guy hero in town.
Excerpt:
Demon Chained
The worst thing about being dead?
Low blood pressure. Getting a hard-on is just about impossible.
But I've sure as hell got one
now. Squeezing a smug murdering asshole's throat between my thighs does it for
me every time. I jam my pistol harder into his forehead, banging his blond head
into the metal floor, and I can't deny that adds a certain something, too.
Spit leaks in my mouth, thick and
tasty, and I savor it. He can't move his arms, and his cool sweat soaks into my
jeans. Bitch of a chafe there tonight. I remember to breathe, and the warm
nightclub air tastes good, gritty with smoke and fear. "Tell me what you
did wrong, bug guts."
My friend Gavain giggles. He's
still lounging in the corner, shirt off, dark hair in tangles, blood-tinged fae
sweat glistening on muscles stretched tight like wire. Gavain thinks all kinds
of weird shit is funny. That's why he helped me lure this dog to his death. But
I don't want to think about Gavain right now. I'm having too much fun.
The gangster grits broken teeth,
his hair plastering in splashes of his own blood. "Don't know what you're
on about."
Bzzt! Wrong answer. First rule of
dealing with a reanimated psycho bent on revenge: tell him what he wants to
hear.
I squeeze tighter, lean closer.
My oily breath wets his face. "You
killed me, motherfucker. You blew my goddamn brains out in front of my little
girl. I'm still picking out bone splinters. Ringing any bells?"
Vertebrae pop as I twist my neck
to show him the hole, black and sticky with rot beneath my long hair. I was
going for a haircut that day, too, before the ambush. If they'd waited half an
hour, kids would be running from me in the street. As it is, I can pass for
living, just, so long as no one gets too close.
He chokes, either the smell or
the pressure, and struggles, bare skin sticking on the metal floor. But he
can't shift me. Not with the added weight of anticipation. I've waited a long
time for this.
"Jesus, Tam, Joey pulled the
goddamn trigger, you know that, I never knew he was gonna—"
"Do I look like I give a
shit?" My finger jerks tighter on the trigger, and my teeth clamp
together, gums crunching. Joey DiLuca's already top of my
face-down-in-a-garbage-skip list. This asshole was just easier to catch. Fury
dizzies me, and now my dick's so hard, it hurts. "Blood on my little
girl's dress. Bits of my brains in her hair, you shit-eating little worm."
I'm trying to be cool and
bad-ass, but my vision smears, black blood staining my tears.
Dying's nothing like they say. I
remember everything, and I didn't see white light, or my grandmother strumming
a harp, or any shit like that. Everything just stops, like you've pulled the
plug on a movie projector. Hell's nothing like people say, either, except for
one thing: it's full of snot-faced bureaucrats. Deals with demons take time,
and I slammed back into my body too late. My daughter's corpse, flowering
scarlet in her dead mother's arms, her murderers long gone. I hadn't spoken to
my ex for eighteen months, and I wasn't allowed to see Katie, but it didn't
mean she wasn't my sunshine.
My enemies kidnapped her to get
to me, and when they had me, they killed her anyway, just for spite. She died
because I was too slow. I can't bring her back. But I'll make this slick
pretty-boy gangbanger regret ever laying his sleazy hands on her.
His chest heaves under my ass as
he struggles to breathe. "Jesus, don't shoot. Crazy motherfucker, get off
me—"
"Shut the fuck up." I
drag his head back, and my fingers smear his hair. His wet blue eyes lock with
mine. He sees his death, and pisses himself. I breathe again, and the warm salt
tweaks my sluggish sense of smell. Jesus. The stink feels so good, a shudder
rips through me, my balls tight and burning. Sensation plays hard to get when
you're dead. If I come when I shoot him, I'm not responsible.
Mouth or jugular? I tap my pistol
against his teeth, but he squirms and squeezes his lips shut. I trace the
barrel down to his throat, where his pulse flutters, and shove it in tight.
"See you in hell."
And that's when she walks in, and everything turns to
shit.
About
the Author:
Erica Hayes was
a law student, an air force officer, an editorial assistant and a musician,
before finally landing her dream job: fantasy and romance writer.
She writes dark
paranormal and urban fantasy romance, and her books feature tough, smart
heroines and colourful heroes with dark secrets.
She hails from
Australia, where she drifts from city to city, leaving a trail of chaos behind
her. Currently, she's terrorizing the wilds of Northumberland.
Website: www.ericahayes.net
Twitter: www.twitter.com/ericahayes
Facebook: www.facebook.com/ericahayes.author
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