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Wednesday, August 20, 2014

Interview and Giveaway The Devil’s Jukebox by Marcel Feldmar





Please share a little about yourself, your genres.

I grew up in Canada, and ended up in Los Angeles, via Denver and Seattle. I’ve been writing for as long as I can remember, but it wasn’t until I stopped playing music that I actually set out to complete a full-length novel. For years it was poetry, song lyrics, music reviews, and the occasional band interview. I would get ideas for longer stories, but never had the time to devote to them. I always seemed to be inspired by the darker side of things, in music and fiction, so there was a genre waiting for me to fall into—the only thing was that I didn’t feel like the Devil’s Jukebox fit into Urban Fantasy or Supernatural Fiction. So I thought I’d come up with my own genre… Paranormal Pop Fiction. I think it works for what I’m doing, and it’s got a nice ring to it.

Tell us a little about your latest or upcoming release.

Well, my latest is my current and only (so far). The Devil’s Jukebox is basically a tale of a group of high school friends who become involved with a couple of Immortals—and what happens twenty years later. These friends reunite and join forces with the Immortals to find a mysterious jukebox that holds the power to revitalize the Muses. Of course, power can be wielded for good or evil, so there is also a race to find the jukebox before its energy can be used to corrupt the Muses.

Have you ever based your book or characters on actual events or people from your own life?

I have definitely mined some experiences from my past for scenes within the book. Shifted and twisted into something new, but yeah—there are definitely pieces of my life within the Devil’s Jukebox. People too… I would say there are a couple of characters that were inspired (not influenced) by people I knew, people I know. I don’t know if those people would be able to tell, a couple might get the connection, but I’m hoping if they realize how they inspired me they’ll be a little flattered. The Devil’s Jukebox, actually, is the story of my life in an alternate reality.

Is there a theme or message in your work that you would like readers to connect to?

I didn’t really write this with a specific message or theme in mind, but some of it was spurred on by a reaction to how music, and in some ways all art, gets treated as background noise. I’m not going to go off on a rant, but I just hope that some readers will walk away a little more open to the power of music and be ready to let it inspire them.

What would your readers be surprised to learn about you?

Ha! I’m sure that there are many things that my readers don’t know about me. Not sure how deep I should get here. Can’t let all of my secrets out. I think that readers might be able to figure out quite a few things by reading my writings, but perhaps my secret admiration of cheezy romantic comedies might surprise some. I mean, of course, there’s Some Kind of Wonderful and all those John Hughes films, and Breakfast at Tiffany’s, Roman Holiday… yeah, sigh, flutter… Bell, Book, and Candle… always a great one… but I mean who knew that I gave a few thumbs up for Music and Lyrics, You’ve Got Mail, Joe Versus the Volcano, and He Said, She Said. I still, however, do not like Ghost.

When you’re not writing what do you do? Do you have any hobbies or guilty pleasures?

I used to play music… well, I used to play drums. In a band, so it was kind of like playing music. Now, I work a full-time job, and write when I can, but as a distraction from “novel” writing—I still scribble out the occasional poem. I guess poetry could be considered a hobby at the moment. I also love just sitting around and watching re-runs of Psych. I don’t believe in guilty pleasures. If I enjoy something—I’m willing to admit it. Even if it means telling people that yes, I actually like listening to Coldplay (only their first two albums).

Which romance book or series (or other genre, if you don’t write romance) do you wish you had written?

If I had been the one who wrote The Dark Is Rising series by Susan Cooper, or the first three books in Madeline L’Engle’s Time Quintet (I never made it to the last two books - but A Wrinkle in Time, The Wind in the Door, and A Swiftly Tilting Planet make up a perfectly contained trilogy), I would be a supremely satisfied author. Although if I had written all of those books I don’t think I’d be able to write anything else, ever.




Is there a genre(s) that you’d like to write that you haven’t tackled yet?

I’d really like to write a decent Science Fiction story - probably sliding into the cyberpunk realm, but I don’t think I have a solid enough grasp on the science. I love reading it—when I read William Gibson’s Neuromancer in high-school it blew my mind. Then Neal Stephenson with Snow Crash… oh my god. I’ve read that book so many times… now I want to read it again. I think that if I had the time to work the research side a little more I could pull it off, so maybe someday…

What is next for you? Do you have any scheduled upcoming releases or works in progress?

I’m currently about one third of the way through what will hopefully be novel number two. My Mother-in-Law, who really enjoyed The Devil’s Jukebox, is hoping that it’s going to be a sequel. She even suggested that I title it The Devil’s Replay. Unfortunately for her, It will be a completely separate story, although I’m not discounting the possibility of a Jukebox sequel in the future. I don’t want to jinx anything by letting the title out too early, but it falls into the same genre (Paranormal Pop Fiction) and it is set in Vancouver. It contains more magic, less music, and probably way too many cocktails.

What book are you reading now?

Right now I am working my way through a couple of books… Geek Love by Katherine Dunn, City Of Devils by Justin Robinson, and I’m re-reading Richard Kadrey’s Sandman Slim series in anticipation of the new one.

What is in your to read pile?

Oh so many books. I wish I didn’t have to work, so I could just read and write, and read some more… Top of the “I need to read” pile: The Twenty-Year Death by Ariel S. Winter. Seriously, this one is like 700 pages. There’s also The Resurrectionist by E. B. Hudspeth, the His Dark Materials trilogy by Phillip Pullman, and Good Omens by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett. Fun times ahead, right?

-Marcel Feldmar



The Devil’s Jukebox
Marcel Feldmar

Genre: Urban Fantasy / Paranormal Pop Fiction

Publisher: Peabo Productions (Self-Published)

Date of Publication: July 8th, 2014

ISBN: 9781495947469
ISBN: 9781310876769

Number of pages: 294
Word Count: 80,000

Cover Artist: Sam Soto

Book Description:

A group of friends are reunited after twenty years to learn that their destinies are entangled with the immortal Muses and a mysterious lost jukebox.

From Vancouver to a New Orleans cemetery, roaming through Los Angeles to Las Vegas; it’s a supernatural road trip laced with rock ‘n’ roll.

Available at Amazon  iTunes  BN  Smashwords


If you order the paperback version of The Devil’s Jukebox 
through CreateSpace  between now and August 31, 
you’ll get 20% off! 

Just use the following discount code:      RR5RTBTN

…and the magic will happen.



excerpt eclipse


Martin looks around the room, smiling through darkness and music. Another night slumming at the Industrial Eclipse. Everyone’s a regular. Everyone’s dancing, flirting, listening to music, drinking. Another escape from normal life. There is comfort in the lights, the darkness, and Martin walks towards the seats in the back room to wait for Charlotte and Phillip. He sits for a few minutes, alone, other than the occasional interruptions by random kids taking breathers between dances. He enjoys watching all the death puppies shake and sway. Nightclub lust in black fishnets and eye shadow.
Jonathan appears, holding a drink in one hand and a clove cigarette in the other, swaying to the background beat.
“What are you doing here?” Martin asks.
“Your girl told us we were meeting here, so why not? I mean, the music could be better, but the chicks are hot. Sebastian should be here soon as well.”
“She’s not my girl.” Then Martin sees her walking across the floor, and he smiles.
Charlotte walks slowly, peering between darkness and movement. When she notices them, she moves in their direction with a big grin on her face. An Images in Vogue song hits the playlist, and Charlotte yells, “Talk later, dance now!”
She pulls Martin into the mess of bodies. He shrugs, decides to go with it. This is Charlotte, and with her, he can ignore all of the lame dancing and spaced-out goths experimenting with MDMA and Industrial grooves, dancing in the shadows and staring at the floor in attempts to impress others who are also busy not looking at anything but their own feet.
After a few hits of the dark waved tunes they go back to sit with Jonathan. Sebastian is there too, looking a little uncomfortable as all the hairsprayed girls twist and turn across the room.
“Well, if it isn’t Mister Church,” booms a voice behind Martin.
“Phillip.”
“I’m glad we’re all here, but I think we should talk somewhere a little quieter.”
Charlotte spins around him. “Not now. That can wait.”
And she’s gone again, lost in a blur of music and movement

When the club starts to shut down, people drift outside and disperse into the early morning air. The earliest breath of sunlight is sometimes refreshing, but after a long night in the club it’s a little frightening. Martin looks apprehensively at the glow of the exit sign. He always feels close to some kind of vampire life when he steps out of the club’s doors. He’s not quite ready to leave, not alone. He stands against the wall; he should be talking to someone, mingling, doing something other than what he always does in these post-social situations.
His friends are here, but they’re all occupied with conversations and people-watching. It’s a blast to recount the various hook-ups and random crash and burns that took place throughout the night. He finally moves towards Annie and Phillip, who are standing near the bar.
“Martin! We were wondering when you would stop holding up the wall and say hello,” Annie says. She gives him a big hug.
“Hey, yeah…” Martin gives her a sheepish smile.
Sebastian comes up behind him and nudges his shoulder. “C’mon man, let’s go.”
“Why stop now?” Phillip asks, “You should come over and hang out for a bit. Company would be good, I think.”
Charlotte joins them and says, “It’ll be fun. We can finally talk shop, right?”
“Absolutely,” Phillip says.
Charlotte gives Martin a little smile, which distracts him completely.
“Dude, can’t beat that!” Jonathan says. “Early-morning goth party!”
“Annie? Care to join us?” Sebastian asks hopefully.
“Not tonight, boys, though it sounds fun. But I’ll see you soon. We have to practice for our show next week.”
“That’s right,” Sebastian says. Annie winks at him, turns on her heel, and glides out the door.
“You bastard.” Jonathan jabs Sebastian in the ribs, one eyebrow raised.
“No, it’s nothing like that…” Sebastian trails off, looking at the door that had let Annie disappear.
Jonathan stares at him. “Seb, you like her, don’t you?”
Sebastian rolls his eyes. “Whatever, let’s go.”

Annie knows the subject of the jukebox might come up tonight, but she’s not ready for that yet. Better to stay out of it until she knows more about what’s going on. It’s been a couple of weeks since she spent the night talking with Charlotte and Phillip, and it’s been strange hanging out with her friends since then. But it started to feel more so after they got together last week for one of their random acid trips. That had ended… Annie shakes her head and realizes she can’t remember how it ended.
“Oh, not again,” she groans.

After Annie leaves, the rest of them come together. They move through the streets, travel in a cab for as far as fifteen dollars will take them, and when they reach the dark house, Phillip moves past the hanging Christmas lights to put a record on the turntable in the corner.
“So, let’s talk music,” he says.
Martin falls back onto the couch, scattering a stack of comic books. He gets a disapproving glance from Phillip, while Sebastian and Jonathan flip through the vinyl piled up against the wall.
“Drinks?” Phillip asks.
“Of course.” Martin sends him a thumbs up.
Charlotte sits back in a chair, watching. It feels like the calm before the storm. Or more like the calm before the next storm. It’s only been a week since Pandora arrived. Thankfully Phillip had pushed her away, with a little help from Dion—and someone a little more unexpected: Fortuna.

Fortuna isn’t like Charlotte and Phillip, but she’s definitely not one of the Muses. According to Phillip, Fortuna has been around for a long time. Longer than Pandora. If Fate and Destiny were sisters who now hated each other, Fortuna would be their grandmother.
“Charlotte? What are you thinking about?” Martin asks.
Charlotte smiles at him. “Nothing, this just feels good, you know?”
Martin smiles back. He knows. He’s been having trouble sleeping for the past week—or more like trouble dreaming. The dreams are all bad, and sleep feels like something that he needs to avoid, but right now there is just a feeling of contentment. Charlotte feels it too, and she hopes the feeling will last. After Pandora left, it had taken all of the strength Charlotte and Phillip could muster to push that night out of everyone’s minds.
They had done it partly to spare the others the memory of the nightmare experience, but it was also to protect them from Pandora in the future. She wouldn’t be able to find them as easily, or use what they know, if they didn’t know anything. But the memories will come back, and when that happens, Pandora will be back as well. Even now, Charlotte knows that there is a slight memory lingering among the friends, even though it’s just a memory of having forgotten something.
Jonathan sits, slightly uncomfortable. He’s been quieter than usual for the past week, and he’s not sure why. He feels like something has been stolen from him, but there’s no evidence of anything missing. It’s a feeling that has been hovering ever since they had all got together, and although he remembers the beginning of that night, he can’t remember how it ended. He just remembers that he had woken up on Sunday morning and the world looked different. It even sounded different. That’s when he decided he needed to understand more about the things that exist between what he saw and what he knows. He knows there’s no such thing as ghosts, but he’s pretty sure he saw one that night. He’s a little apprehensive about sharing this with anyone, so he tries to ignore it. Jonathan shakes his head, trying to get a low hum out of his ears. It feels like he’s been living underwater. Nothing feels like it should, and he doesn’t like it.
He looks around Phillip’s place and knows that he’s not the only one feeling this… strangeness. Martin looks really tired, Charlotte seems a bit distracted, and even Phillip is acting a little on edge. Sebastian seems the most out of sorts, though, and Jonathan wonders if it has something to do with Annie.
Sebastian does feel different. He had seen something recently, but he didn’t know what. He was with his bandmates, and Charlotte was there, too. They all dropped a couple of hits of acid and wandered into the night. He can picture the sidewalks and how they seemed to shift and glisten against falling shadows, and then the shadows came to life. That was all he could remember until he opened his eyes the next morning and realized he was in his own bed. He was awake and convinced that something out of the ordinary had happened, something that was floating on the edge of his mind like a wraith of memory.
Now he’s ready for a change, ready for something new, and it has to be soon. A new home, a new city, a new life. Something. There’s still the band, but that doesn’t feel like a good enough reason to stay in Vancouver. Sebastian flashes on a memory of Annie, how she looked when she left the Eclipse. She seems almost like a new person. He’s known her for a long time, but suddenly she’s someone he really wants to know. It’s not the music that’s keeping him here.


About the Author:

Marcel Feldmar was born in Vancouver, moved to Boulder, ended up in Denver, went back to Vancouver, moved to Seattle, and ended up in Los Angeles. He is married with three dogs, and enjoys well made cocktails. He is also a coffee addict and an ex-drummer for too many bands to mention. He recently traded in his drumsticks for a couple of pens, and proceeded to complete his first novel. The Paranormal Pop Fiction tale entitled The Devil’s Jukebox.





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Guest Blog, Excerpt, and Giveaway: Forget Me Not by Shawn Martin


Please share a little about yourself, your genres, any other pen names you use.

I live in the comfortable Midwestern town of Springfield, Missouri, hometown of Brad Pitt and Bass Pro.  If you're ever here, you'll see a lot of one and none of the other.  Writing became a creative outlet for me during my college years, but it wasn't until just a few years ago that I sought validation through publication.  Vinspire Publishing picked up my first book Shadowflesh in 2013, a young adult paranormal novel, and released its sequel Forget Me Not earlier this year.  In addition to writing, I work as a firefighter.  Seeing raw emotions fueled by both hope and hopelessness gives me desire to write and a will to live.  As far as pen names, I don't use one.  What you see is what you get. 

Are you a parent?

I am the father of two amazing boys who have grown into fine young men way too soon.

If yes do you find it hard to juggle writing and parenting?

During their formative years, I tried to be there for my sons.  Their waking hours were spent with dad close by.  But yes, I really had to learn to juggle the writing with parenting.  As luck would have it—either good luck or bad luck, you decide—chronic insomnia paid me a visit and decided to stay.  Where some novelists would see a problem, I saw an opportunity.  I began writing in the midnight hour every night and wouldn't stop until the clock struck three.  Creativity flowed freely, and my first novel was born.

Is there a theme or message in your work that you would like readers to connect to?

Forget Me Not tells the story of Aileen and the curse which has been cast upon her, making her lose all memory of her love for Addison.  At times she feels as if she's lost her mind, or as if everyone else has lost theirs.  Forget Me Not dwells on the fear of going insane and losing touch with reality.  And through the fear, I try to raise a question:  If you do lose the memory of the one you love, would you fall in love with them all over again, or would you just pass them by?

What would your readers be surprised to learn about you?

Most readers are surprised to find out I'm a firefighter.  When I tell them, they look at me with a big question mark on their faces.  What in the world is a rough-neck in a bunker coat doing writing young adult paranormal romance?  I suppose the answer is surprisingly simple.  No one is one-dimensional; we all have layers. 

Is there a genre that you’d like to write that you haven’t tackled yet?

I would love to write historical fiction with more than just a little hint of fantasy.  When I listen to or read real history, it's filled with so many holes, unanswered questions, and coincidences.  Maybe there's a logical explanation for them all, but where is the fun in that? 

What is next for you? Do you have any scheduled upcoming releases or works in progress?

My next book will be called Invisible Ink, Book 3 in the Shadowflesh series.  It picks up several months later from where Forget Me Not ends.  Aileen is sent a letter from England, and when she opens it the page is blank.  Of course it isn't.  There is indeed something written—something mysterious and dangerous—in invisible ink.  Vinspire has a tentative release date for this project in the Spring of 2015.


I want to thank Creatively Green Write At Home Mom for inviting me to share a little about myself and Forget Me Not with everyone.  It's been a lot of fun.  Never stop reading -- Shawn.

Forget Me Not
Shadowflesh Series 
Book 2
Shawn Martin

Genre:  Young Adult Paranormal

Publisher:  Vinspire Publishing

Date of Publication:  March 31, 2014

ISBN:  0989063232
ASIN:  B00IKZTVUC

Number of pages:  308
Word Count: 73,500

Cover Artist:  Elaina Lee

Book Description:

Fortune has smiled on seventeen year old Aileen McCormick ever since Addison came back into her life, giving her the love she has so desperately longed for.  That is, until a mysterious man slithers across her path and slips a spellbinding cameo around her neck.  The cameo holds more than just the image of an enchantress who hungers for souls.  It possesses a curse that strangles away every memory Aileen has of Addison.

Addison, a three hundred year old fugitive from the netherworld, recognizes the wretched woman inside the cameo and the curse she has cast on his unsuspecting love.  The enchanted cameo has but one purpose:  to torment Aileen with hints of love she can no longer recall.   

Aileen cannot escape the deadly cameo.  She runs for her life with the curse only a breath away.  If she truly wants her memory back, the enchantress is all too willing to restore it.  It will cost her, though.  Cost her everything.

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Excerpt From
Chapter 1



I couldn’t remember the last time I had been afraid of the dark.  It seemed like a lifetime ago, when shadows and demons consumed me at night, when the end of the world was but a breath away.  That was all before I met Addison.
From the very moment I literally fell into his arms, I had fallen hopelessly in love with him.  Hopelessly, carelessly, eternally in love with him.  And he loved me back.
Addison Wake had become my entire life, my reason for living.  I breathed in his love and exhaled his name.  My heart beat a passionate rhythm to which only he marched.  He danced into my dreams, stealing me away into the stars at the witching hour.  Since he had come back to me we had been inseparable.
The last amber leaves of autumn waved goodbye to the worst and best year of my life.  The year I lost my home, my friends, everything I thought I needed to live.  The year I discovered a grandmother I hardly knew.  The year I found new friends.  The year I fell in love.
The calendar gloated that Christmas was less than a month away, but who cared?  I looked forward to the first day of winter.  Or rather the longest night of the year.  Ever since finding out Santa was just a figment of my parents’ imagination, I didn’t have much use for the yuletide.  But I had always loved that long and wonderful night.  Addison had already set a date for that night, promising to take me to an air show in the day and onto the rooftop at night to teach me the constellations.
It was kind of embarrassing, but I had never really learned the stars.  Sure, I could spot the Big Dipper and hardly ever mistook the moon for a comet.  But that was the extent of my celestial knowledge.  Most of my time had been spent looking down rather than up, and I regretted that.  Just one more regret in the long list I had been working on in my seventeen years.  But all that was changing, and Addison was helping me one regret at a time.
To say I appreciated everything he had done for me would be an understatement.  He taught me how to drive a stick.  He trusted me with his deepest, darkest secrets.  He saved my life.  He fell in love with me, maybe even more than I had fallen in love with him.  If that was possible.
Mere words could do no justice for how I felt about Addison.  But that didn’t stop me from trying to tell him, or show him.  I poured my heart out into haiku almost daily.  I swirled his initials into the thighs of my worn jeans in three colors of permanent ink.  I learned to say “I love you” in twenty-one languages.
My most recent declaration of love cost me an entire paycheck.  I purchased a star.  Not the Hollywood kind starlets walked across in stilettos.  An actual star, in outer space, where no man has boldly gone before.
Bonnie Fay and Nicola had completely different reactions when I confessed what I had done.  Bonnie Fay wrinkled her nose and squinted at me, forcing the kind of smile that told me I was lame.  “Sounds kinda hokey,” she had said in her southern drawl.  “Sugar, if you’re gonna tease him with something he can’t have, don’t let it be a star.”
Nicola, the polar opposite to everything calm and conforming, had a completely different reaction.  She ached a sigh, crossed her hands over her heart, and fell backwards onto my bed.  “That is just so…”  She took a breath and clicked the heals of her combat boots.  I prayed she’d say something other than “hokey.”  “So… romantic.”  Then she wiped away a hint of her sentimentality before it had the chance to smear her dark eye make-up.  She had spent too long applying deadly Goth to have it ruined by a girly tear.
Yes, I bought my boyfriend a star.  It was a little star – I didn’t make that much money – cleverly hidden in the Scorpius constellation.  The website informed me the little speck could be seen near the horizon using a telescope the size of a small skyscraper.  But the heavenly body, now and forever known as “Addison Wake,” was indeed there.  It was my gift to him, a little piece of eternity that would smile down upon us every night until the stars all went out.
Okay, it was a little hokey.
But what could I have given to Addison Wake?  He wasn’t exactly like the other boys at Redcliff High.  To be perfectly clear, he was nothing at all like anyone on this mortal world.  Addison was a phantom, a fugitive from the netherworld, casually walking among the living as shadowflesh.  He willed his dark, mysterious ether into the tall, lean embodiment of perfection.  An immortal soul, yet vulnerable shadowflesh.
And no, I didn’t need my head examined… or maybe I did.
Addison was completely wrong for me, completely wrong for any living, breathing girl who had a fondness for staying alive.  The more I knew we shouldn’t be together, the more I was drawn to him.  Like a knot, the harder a person tried to pull it apart the tighter it got.
To show my love for Addison, I had to think of something as unique, something as ageless as he.  Haiku hadn’t cut it.  And it wasn’t like I could burn him a CD of my favorite music and expect it to mean anything in a year, or a decade, or a century.  But a star, it would be forever.
And when that long and wonderful night finally came and Addison showed me the constellations, I would surprise him with his star, pointing to the part of the sky where the tiny speck was supposed to be.
I had no idea how he would react.  Maybe he’d shrug or look at me as if I had lost my mind.  Or maybe he’d arch one eyebrow higher than the other over his smoky blue eyes and kiss me.  It would be cold, December nights get that way, so he would undoubtedly drape his leather flight jacket over my shoulders and wrap me in his strong arms, and I would kiss him back like I had never kissed him before, like I would never kiss him again.  And perhaps that would be the night.  The night.
I no longer feared the darkness.  As a matter of fact, I looked forward it.  The longest, darkest night of the year waited for me, and that should have been my happily ever after.  But fate can be a funny, cruel thing.



About the Author:

Shawn Martin calls Springfield, Missouri, home.  After graduating from Missouri State University with majors in Economics and Political Science, he bounced around the Midwest only to end up right where he started.

His day (and night) job is being a firefighter.  Aside from rescuing cats in trees and removing burnt pot roasts from ovens, he spends his time finding the hardest way to do the simplest of things.  The rest of his time is spent weaving words into another installment in the Shadowflesh Series.  Visit www.shadowflesh.com for a look into the author and his work.


twitter:  @martiniaff152


facebook:  https://www.facebook.com/shadowflesh

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Monday, August 18, 2014

Spotlight and Giveaway Taming Darkness by Kat Daemon





Taming Darkness
The Darkness Saga
Book 1
Kat Daemon

Genre: Paranormal Romance

Date of Publication: April 16, 2014

ISBN:1497495350
ASIN: B00JRHVFOC

Number of pages: 174 pages
Word Count: 54,000

Cover Artist: S.P. McConnell

Book Description:

Since he was sentenced to earth eons ago, Lucifer has always lived by three simple rules: Humans are toys that are meant to be played with, love is a useless emotion, and the only creature worth fighting for is himself. To him, nothing matters but his own enjoyment, whether it be manipulating those around him, or indulging in the sins of the flesh with Lilith.

Then he found young, sweet, and innocent, Maria, who is everything that Lucifer detests. She has devoted her life to her one true love, God. Unable to resist a challenge, Lucifer sets his sights on tempting Maria away from his enemy. Disguising himself as Lucas Starr, he creates a world that not even Maria can resist. He never planned on having the tables turned on him.

Imagine Lucifer’s surprise when Maria brings him to his knees and shows him a glimpse of heaven once more. Blinded by his arrogance and an unlikely vision, Lucifer falls again, this time forgetting that some lines should never be crossed. When his greatest opponent, Michael, shows up, all Hell breaks loose.

Will Maria be able to accept Lucifer for who he truly is, or realize what Michael already knows: some destinies can never be changed?

Available at   Amazon    BN    iTunes

    Excerpt:

There are many places that I have called home over my lifetime. I have rooms in every corner of the globe. Yet, I have such a fondness for Manhattan that I made a penthouse on the Upper East Side one of my more permanent lairs. I acquired the building during the stock market crash of 1929. Amazing what people are willing to give up when they are in a state of panic. Although the entire building is mine, I prefer to spend my time at the top, watching the city, keeping a close eye on humanity.
     This particular evening, I was host to a party, an impromptu event in which many of my minions had brought with them a human counterpart to tempt and indulge. All around me, the weak were lost in laughter, swimming in the sensation of sin as they turn a blind eye on their conscience. Bodies were draped over chaise lounges with veins full of heroin, brains closed to common sense. Girls danced for men with dollars while greedy hands in the corner bet their house over a card game. In the back rooms, people fucked like dogs, cheating on their spouses, and snorting lines of cocaine off of the bodies of the camouflaged demons that would later chain them to the beds. The air was thick with smoke and fragrant with booze. It was a typical Saturday night.
     I sat cast in shadows, a king on my throne, observing the jesters that provided my entertainment. Sometimes, human behavior fascinated me. But mostly, I was watching Lilith. She was sitting on top of the bar, with no less than a dozen suitors at her feet. Leave it to Lilith to break my one guest rule. Red leather high-heeled boots ran up her legs, black hot pants revealed too much flesh, and a red halter top tied her up in one neat package. Her skin might as well have been white marble, with lips red as roses begging to be kissed. Lavish, flaming red hair spilled over her breasts, hitting her hips in thunderous waves. She was the vision of a ripe, delicious, cherry waiting to be plucked. One of my favorite features was her eyes. They were always changing color, alternating between green and yellow. What was even more fascinating was that she could spin them at will, hypnotizing any man that needed to be soothed.
     The primitive beings before her fought hard to serve, hoping for a fraction of consideration, but her eyes were on me. They always were. Hopping off of the bar, she walked toward me, her body swaying in a seductive rhythm, her hips demanding my attention. She offered me a half empty glass of bourbon, and made herself comfortable in my lap. Stretching out like a cat, she lay against my chest and raised a lazy hand beneath my chin, tracing my chiseled jaw with her finger. Had it been a normal night, I would have enjoyed her this way, but I knew it wasn’t for me. It was all part of the act for her fans, whose hungry eyes longed for her, with tongues hanging and dicks waving.
     I pulled her hair out of my face, rested it on her shoulder, and took a generous gulp of the bourbon. “Rough day at work, dear?” I asked while eyeing the strings of her shirt knotted at her neck. It didn’t seem to be tied very tight, and I was tempted to pull it apart.
     “If only it were. You know I like it rough.” She purred in my lap. “May I ask what the great Lucifer has been up to? I haven’t seen you around lately.”
     I handed her the glass and revealed my secret. “I found a new toy.”
     “Oh? I’m in need of a new toy.” She took a drink from the glass and licked her lips before laying her head against my shoulder. “I keep breaking all of mine.” She gestured toward the bar, where the men were begging for her return. Her fingers unbuttoned my two top buttons. She slipped her hand inside and ran her fingers over my pecs. She was warm, like me.
     “I’m not sharing this one,” I declared.
     “You never do,” she said, pulling her hand back a tad more defiant than I would have liked. Sitting up and slamming back the bourbon, she leaped from my lap, taking a step back toward her fans.
“Lilith...I think I might keep this one for a while. This soul may be a bit harder to acquire.”
     She turned and looked at me for a moment, contemplating my intent. “I never interfere with your work, just as long as it doesn’t interfere with me.” 
     “Go have fun. Work up an appetite, and when you get hungry, come back to me.”
     She leaned down and placed a firm hand on each armrest, looking into my eyes with her wild, animal instincts. She kissed me fiercely, and added, “I always do.” 
     “One more thing,” I said grabbing her wrist and kissing the inside of it before she fled toward her toys. “That blonde with the great hair, but bad teeth...”
     Lilith turned a lazy head and noted who I referred to. “Do you want him?” she offered.
     “I want his watch,” I said, my eyes locked on the Rolex that was in all likelihood a family heirloom.
     Lilith laughed. “Is that all?  Consider it yours.” Then she made her way back to the crowd to break a few hearts, and perhaps a few necks as well.






                                                         
About the Author:

Kat Daemon grew up in New York where her imagination always seemed to get the best of her. When she’s not hanging with demons, she’s usually armed with a strong cup of coffee and dreaming up her next tormented character.

You can find out more about Kat and her books at www.katdaemon.com





http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7383307.Kat_Daemon

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