Plus!! The author sent us a little tidbit, or peek “behind the books” from her own perspective (which I love ’cause even the author herself, is in “love limbo”). You’ll see . So she sent over a tantalizing excerpt from each book to help make her point about her current dilemma. Scroll down for that.
I love when an author is as surprised by her characters as we are. I just want to read this more, now, knowing that we could be in for *anything*.
About book #1:
When it turns out your ex was actually a sexy demon sent by the devil to seduce you to evil, you’d think the next guy, no matter what he’s like, couldn’t be a worse decision. Enter Father Marc Angeletti, a smooth talking piece of forbidden fruit with onyx eyes and a razor wit, and Riona Dade may as well start packing her luggage for damnation now. But come Hell or… well, Hell, Marc, Riona, and demigod Dee Zitka have a mission: serve as a Pure Soul and vanquish Lucifer’s minion scum from the face of the Earth to protect humanity from evil.
Oh, and don’t get seduced into sin yourself, because a fallen Pure Soul is one of Lucifer’s biggest thrills. As long as Riona and Marc can keep things professional and north of the sheets, no problem, right?
Yeah, that worked out great in the Thornbirds, too…
A note from the author, Killian McRae:
His thumb pressed into her bottom lip, and though she was certain the feeling was one-sided, she couldn’t help but go weak in the knees.
Which was so not penciled into her knees’ daily schedule.
Standing up straight, eyes shooting open, Riona ground out the words through clenched teeth. “Will you please stop doing that?”
Marc pulled back his hand and his warmth. “Doing what?”
“Making me feel like goo,” she hissed. “I get it, you don’t like me, but you don’t have to toy around with my emotions just to be an ass. God, you’re like… Antarctica one second, then Brazil the next. Could you maybe shoot for that subtle indifference bordering on contempt you had pinned down for so long?”
“I make you feel like goo?” It was as though he’d been accused of some heinous crime or fault, like being a fan of strip bocce ball. An obvious response eluded him.
Riona clicked her tongue. “The gooiest of goo. Could we please focus? Downer Demon? Yeah, I think I found the darkness at St. Cecilia’s, and I think it’s a Downer Demon, and I think he’s in my classroom right this very second.”
Marc scoffed. “Whoa there. Yeah, Downer Demons exist, but they’re rare and they don’t tend to manifest as teenagers. Teens are too volatile for them to spend so much energy on, and you know the treaty between the Big Bad and the Big Boss specified that seventeen is the minimum appearance of age for demons to manifest themselves as mortals, so I don’t really think…”
“His name is Damien.”
Marc’s brow became stern and his gaze fell on the adjacent classroom door. “Yeah, definitely a demon then.”
“Jerry Romani, on the other hand, has a tendency to say things that would make him the target of serial sexual harassment suits in the corporate world. Yet, in the hex-and-curse culture of Boston’s supernatural scene, he raises the heat with each interaction, and in doing so, raises the stakes of Riona’s growing attraction to him. Never one to back down from a good chance to make a lust impression, the redeemable demon keeps up a constant campaign to woo her to his whimsy. Just take, for example, this scene from book two, Once You Go Demon:”
Jerry rounded out the bathroom and opened the door, in what the French call la buff. Riona took one look at his full and frontal and went all agape. For a moment, Jerry hesitated. Then decided, to hell with it, she had seen him naked before and he would stand his ground, which at the moment meant his doorway.
“Help you with something, witch?”
He expected her to either: A. slap him in the face, then tell him to get some clothes on; B. kick him in the balls, then tell him to get some clothes on; C. make some snide remark while either slapping him in the face and/or kicking him in the balls, then tell him to get some clothes on; or D. … Well, D was an open ticket, but he was pretty sure it would end with him writhing on the floor in pain and her telling him to get some clothes on.
So, he should probably skip to the end and get at it. Only, to his surprise, Riona didn’t seem concerned at all with causing him any form of pain. She just stood, unemotionally observing his body as though studying it based on its scientific merit.
“Come down here for a peep show, Riona?” He opened the door all the way. “Got something on your chest? Want it to be me?”
“No, I, um …” As though she’d just realized Jerry was capable of speech, her eyes flashed up from where they had lingered—if pressed, he would have said just south of his Mason-Dixon line—and looked him in the face, her cheeks blushing. “Can I come in?”
“Of course.” His hand swept across the air.
“And can you put some clothes on?”
“So, I ponder, and I plan, and I run twelve different con/pro analyses because I’m a geek. And then I try to figure out in the end who really deserves Riona the most. I’m still pretty sure I’ll end up walking her down the road I originally planned, but damn, neither Marc nor Jerry make either choice crystal clear. Methinks these boys just may have to have a place in book three where they fight it out, don’t you agree?”
Indeed, I do, Killian. Indeed, I do. Thank you SO much for this!!