by Tara Fox Hall
February 19, 2019Genre: Paranormal, Erotic Romance, Contemporary Romance
Publisher: Melange Books
Will a demon-hunting priest and a wizard bent on world dominion end Shaker’s happiness with his human Mistress Debbie?
CEO Debbie and demon Shaker’s first year of partnership was a smashing success for both Pandora Productions and their own new intimate relationship, ending with the announcement of their engagement last New Year’s Eve. Shaker now inhabits a human host, Pandora’s rising action star Jett Black, putting the possibility of a family within Debbie’s tentative grasp as the couple pledges their love at the altar. But as before, one crisis after another ensues, beginning with Titan’s push to assimilate Pandora and the death of Debbie’s father, bringing her back together with her estranged family, and into the sights of a demon-hunting priest, Father Matthew, who will stop at nothing to not only send Shaker back to the Hell he came from, but also ensure Debbie is free of sin…permanently. When Shaker is sent back to Hell, Debbie is left bereft, her team of allies decimated, her best friend in a coma, she must decide if she will succumb…or rise from the ashes and fight ruthlessly for everything she loves, no matter the cost.
Excerpt:
“Go in,” Myrrh cajoled.
Debbie hesitantly went up the stairs of the church. Being a Saturday afternoon, the doors were closed, and no one was around. Debbie grasped the handle with a half-hearted tug, expecting it not to budge. Instead, the door opened smoothly, and she stepped inside. She approached the side of the altar, where candles were lit for those who had passed. She put in a donation, then lit one.
“You weren’t on the list,” she said tentatively, then cracked a smile. “But I’m sorry, Jett. This light’s for you. You weren’t a good man, and I still think that Shaker made you a much better one in the time he was with you. But please forgive me if you think I wronged you. And I hope you are at peace, for what happened to you.”
In succession, Debbie made more donations and lit candles, naming off the people she knew Shaker had harvested, including Amanda. As she closed the brief prayer for her former secretary, there was an angry hiss from behind her. Debbie wheeled around, lit taper in her hand. The ghost of Celia was there with glowing yellow eyes, her grin ghastly. “You think you can light a few candles and be forgiven?” she shrieked. “You will not be.”
Remember what Myrrh said. “I’m sorry,” Debbie said, not backing down. “But I didn’t kill you. Stop haunting me and be at peace. Your mother waits for you, Celia. Pass on and go to her.”
The ghost reached out, slashing at Debbie with her ragged nails, ripping four bloody furrows down her arm. Debbie yelped and staggered back, dropping the taper and clutching her bleeding flesh. From outside the church, twin howls sounded, angry and stymied.
The hellhounds. But they can’t get in! Likely Myrrh can’t either!
The ghost picked up the still-burning taper, which began to glow like a branding iron. “You’re not sorry. But you will be. Oh, you will be!”
The church’s twin doors slammed wide open, as Myrrh appeared, moving slowly as if slogging through knee-high mud. The murder of crows wheeled frantically in the sky behind her, cawing madly, diving toward the church, then away. In her hand was a ball of green fire. The ghost turned to her, screeching, claws outstretched.
“Go back to the grave, little girl,” Myrrh commanded, her blue eyes flashing. “Go back willingly, or I’ll end your haunting here. What remains of you will join my murder, until you have atoned for your crimes.”
“Demon!” Celia growled.
“You are becoming one, in your hate,” Myrrh intoned. “As such, you are fair game to me. I owe no allegiance to Heaven or Hell. Go back to the grave!”
Celia hissed, then launched herself at Myrrh.
“Have it your way.” Myrrh threw up both hands, the green fire shooting forward to engulf Celia, who screamed shrilly as she writhed in the eerie flames. The girl split in two, one misty form disappearing, the other solidifying and darkening as it shrunk, becoming a baby crow.
“Go in,” Myrrh cajoled.
Debbie hesitantly went up the stairs of the church. Being a Saturday afternoon, the doors were closed, and no one was around. Debbie grasped the handle with a half-hearted tug, expecting it not to budge. Instead, the door opened smoothly, and she stepped inside. She approached the side of the altar, where candles were lit for those who had passed. She put in a donation, then lit one.
“You weren’t on the list,” she said tentatively, then cracked a smile. “But I’m sorry, Jett. This light’s for you. You weren’t a good man, and I still think that Shaker made you a much better one in the time he was with you. But please forgive me if you think I wronged you. And I hope you are at peace, for what happened to you.”
In succession, Debbie made more donations and lit candles, naming off the people she knew Shaker had harvested, including Amanda. As she closed the brief prayer for her former secretary, there was an angry hiss from behind her. Debbie wheeled around, lit taper in her hand. The ghost of Celia was there with glowing yellow eyes, her grin ghastly. “You think you can light a few candles and be forgiven?” she shrieked. “You will not be.”
Remember what Myrrh said. “I’m sorry,” Debbie said, not backing down. “But I didn’t kill you. Stop haunting me and be at peace. Your mother waits for you, Celia. Pass on and go to her.”
The ghost reached out, slashing at Debbie with her ragged nails, ripping four bloody furrows down her arm. Debbie yelped and staggered back, dropping the taper and clutching her bleeding flesh. From outside the church, twin howls sounded, angry and stymied.
The hellhounds. But they can’t get in! Likely Myrrh can’t either!
The ghost picked up the still-burning taper, which began to glow like a branding iron. “You’re not sorry. But you will be. Oh, you will be!”
The church’s twin doors slammed wide open, as Myrrh appeared, moving slowly as if slogging through knee-high mud. The murder of crows wheeled frantically in the sky behind her, cawing madly, diving toward the church, then away. In her hand was a ball of green fire. The ghost turned to her, screeching, claws outstretched.
“Go back to the grave, little girl,” Myrrh commanded, her blue eyes flashing. “Go back willingly, or I’ll end your haunting here. What remains of you will join my murder, until you have atoned for your crimes.”
“Demon!” Celia growled.
“You are becoming one, in your hate,” Myrrh intoned. “As such, you are fair game to me. I owe no allegiance to Heaven or Hell. Go back to the grave!”
Celia hissed, then launched herself at Myrrh.
“Have it your way.” Myrrh threw up both hands, the green fire shooting forward to engulf Celia, who screamed shrilly as she writhed in the eerie flames. The girl split in two, one misty form disappearing, the other solidifying and darkening as it shrunk, becoming a baby crow.
Book Tour Schedule
Follow the book tour from February 22 - March 7, 2019.Visit each tour stop daily and discover more features, excerpts, reviews, interviews, fun facts and more! To check the latest tour schedule, visit the Year of the Demon Book Page at Book Unleashed.
Tara Fox Hall’s writing credits include nonfiction, erotica, horror, suspense, action-adventure, children’s stories, and contemporary and historical paranormal romance. She is the author of the paranormal fantasy Lash series, the paranormal romantic suspense Unhallowed Love series and the paranormal romantic drama Promise Me series. Tara divides her free time unequally between writing novels and short stories, chainsawing firewood, caring for stray animals, sewing cat and dog beds for donation to animal shelters, and target practice. All of her published children’s stories to date are free reads on www.childrens-stories.net.
Tara Fox Hall's Email: tarafoxhall@gmail.com
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