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Daemon Persuasion
Daemon Persuasion Series
Book 1
S. K. Gregory
Genre: Urban Fantasy
Publisher: Mockingbird Lane Press and SKGregory.
Date of Publication: Jan 2013
ISBN: 978-0985690632
ASIN: B00DRAX2P0
Number of pages: 222 pages
Word Count: 46k
Cover Artist: Jamie Johnson
Book Description:
When Mackenzie Murphy goes looking for her father she finds herself caught in the middle of a demon war between three rival families. Still trying to master her own demon abilities, who can she trust to help her? The mysterious Lucien? Or Taryn, the son of the enemy? With all three families hunting for a talisman that could shift the balance of power, Mackenzie must get to it first and finish what her father started, or die trying.
Daemon
Persuasion Excerpt:
Chapter 1
Ten Years Later
Mackenzie
prowled the backstreets of downtown Los Angeles searching for her mark.
Johnny Beckman
was the name her boss had given her, but he usually went by Ace, because he
always seemed to be able to pull one out of his sleeve when the stakes were
high. Unfortunately, his luck had taken a turn for the worse lately and he owed
her boss over ten grand. Money that Mackenzie was going to collect.
She had spent
most of the night talking to people, trying to track him down. Rumor had it
that he liked to hang out in a bar called Pot Luck.
The club closed
at two, so she loitered outside waiting for Johnny. She stood against a wall trying
to look casual, staring at the reflection of the neon green Pot Luck sign in a
nearby puddle.
“Hey there
sweetness, why don’t we go back to my place?” A bald drunk leered at her as he
left the club. He tried to cop a feel, but before he could touch her she
grabbed his wrist and twisted it up his back. He cried out, trying to wrench
his arm away.
“Keep your hands
to yourself,” she said. She let go of his wrist and he hurried away, calling
her a few choice names as he went. Nothing she hadn’t heard before. She had
fended off more than a few unwanted admirers in her line of work. At five foot
ten, she towered over a few them, and that intimidated them.
Although some of
them looked past that to the curly black hair, green eyes and a body with
curves in all the right places.
A half hour
later, Johnny finally staggered out. He was shorter than her by three inches.
Dressed in a sports jacket which he wore over a checked shirt, he bumped into
one of the bouncers at the door. He was loaded.
“Watch it,” the
bouncer growled.
“Drop dead,”
Johnny muttered, not loud enough for the bouncer to hear, but she heard
it. She kept her distance until he was
away from the club. The stench of urine in the alleyway was overpowering.
Breathing through her mouth, she crept along behind him. There was little
light, so Johnny wouldn’t see her until she was right up on him.
She
passed a pile of blankets tucked between two trash cans. Pausing, she checked
to make sure they were empty. She didn’t need some homeless person as a witness.
Johnny stopped
to light a cigarette and Mackenzie closed the distance between them.
“Hey, Johnny,
how’s your luck been?” she said, in a friendly tone.
He turned
around, the lit match still in his hand. Weariness lined his pudgy face.
Running a hand through his greasy black hair, he eyed her through small, bleary
dark eyes. He reminded her of a pig. And not the cute one from the film.
“Who’s asking?”
His tone was guarded but his body was relaxed. He didn’t view her as a threat
and she found that insulting.
“Mr. Clayton is
wondering about his money,” she replied.
That got a
reaction. She didn’t relax her stance. Things could turn ugly in a moment’s
notice and as they said in her kickboxing class, ‘Never let your guard down.’
“You tell
Clayton that if he doesn’t have the decency to send his heavies for the money,
then he can wait for it. Seriously, how old are you, sweetheart?” He was right
up in her face now and she could smell his stinking breath.
Ever since she’d
been a kid, she hated when people invaded her personal space. It made her edgy
and more than ready to do whatever she needed to get them to back off.
“Old enough to
do this,” she said. She brought her knee up into his groin. He let out a
muffled grunt of pain as he doubled over. Grabbing the back of his head, she
slammed her knee into his forehead. He cried out again and fell to the ground,
clutching his balls and head simultaneously.
“Mr. Clayton
wants his money by midnight tomorrow or…” she left the sentence unfinished.
Leaning over him, she checked his pockets and found over a grand tucked away.
He was still earning his nickname.
“I’ll take this
as a down payment.”
Eager to get out
of the alleyway and away from the stench, she turned away.
“You fucking
cunt,” Johnny yelled. He shoved her hard from behind and she fell to her knees.
Something wet soaked through the left leg of her jeans. I really hope that’s
rain water. From behind her she heard the distinct click of a blade.
“That was a big
mistake,” he said, pointing it at her, “How about I send Clayton a message in
the form of your dead body.”
“A little help
here,” Mackenzie said. She whispered a few words in Latin.
The streetlight
above them blinked out, as Mackenzie climbed to her feet.
A cold wind
swirled around them. A trashcan tipped over, spilling its contents over the
ground. The smell of rotting food filled the air.
“What the hell
is going on?” Johnny said, his eyes wild with fear. He backed away from her,
his eyes darting back and forth. The knife flicked out of his hand and bounced away.
Mackenzie saw
the Shadow move in behind Johnny, flipping him off his feet. He hit the ground,
smacking his chin on the concrete.
As the Shadow
moved over him, she knew what was coming next.
“Subsitso,”
Mackenzie barked. The Shadow halted, poised in anticipation, waiting for
further instructions.
She looked at
Johnny whimpering on the ground, “Excedo,” she commanded.
The Shadow sank
slowly into the ground and disappeared.
“Get the money
Johnny,” she said.
Breathing hard,
she walked away, angry that Johnny had gotten the jump on her. She hated having
to call the Shadow for help when she was perfectly capable of taking care of
herself.
It had appeared
a few times over the last ten years, especially as she had a knack for getting
into trouble. At first, she had been terrified and convinced she was going
crazy. When it appeared, it would whisper to her in Latin. Once she figured out
it was Latin, she memorized a few simple commands, which it seemed to prefer to
English.
Constantly
moving as a child meant she never had anyone to confide in about the strange
and sometimes scary phenomenon. She had tried telling Suzie in the children’s
home about it, but that had been a mistake. Suzie had laughed in her face and
shoved her down, calling her a nut job. Unwittingly, Mackenzie had summoned the
Shadow and Suzie ended up in the hospital with stitches in her head. This Shadow thing craved violence and
Mackenzie knew it would have loved to have killed Johnny, but it followed her
orders without question. At least so far. Over the years, it had become a kind
of guardian for her, but considering the outcome of its last visit, that night
with Ramone, she had sworn she would never call for it again. Calling it was a
mistake, but sometimes she did it without thinking.
Still, she had
what she came for. As she left the alley, she felt a prickling sensation on the
back of her neck as if she was being watched. She stopped, searching the area,
but saw nothing. There were shouts in the distance, more drunks no doubt.
Crossing the street, she glanced over her shoulder.
There was
definitely someone watching her. She looked up and found him, standing on a
fire escape on the building opposite. He was tall, wearing a long coat, which
flapped around him in the wind, but that was about all she could see. She
couldn’t see his face but she knew he was staring right at her. Something about
the man sent chills down her spine. She turned and hurried away. She’d had
enough surprises for one night.
Blue
Moon was the club Mr. Clayton owned. Its usual cliental consisted of the dregs
of society or out-of-towners who didn’t know about its reputation. They played
mostly dance music, which personally Mackenzie hated, but she had learned to
drown it out over the last couple of years. She let herself in the back door
hoping to leave the money and go, but a few people were still up, including
Clayton.
“Johnny sent you
a little present, Mr. Clayton,” Mackenzie said, dropping the money on the table
in front of a blonde woman in her late forties. Two bodyguards stood on either
side of her.
Her ice blue
eyes gave nothing away. She was dressed in a simple blue calf length dress, but
Mackenzie was sure the woman could make sack cloth look classy.
“You gave him my
message?” Mr. Clayton asked.
“Yes, he’ll
pay,” Mackenzie, replied.
“He’d better,”
the woman replied. Mr. Clayton was in fact Greta Clayton. She had taken over
from her husband after he was shot two years ago. Even though he was dead, his
name still meant something among the locals. Since he was rarely seen, Greta
kept up the pretense that he was still alive. Mackenzie knew that if the locals
knew a woman ran the show, there would be chaos.
Mackenzie worked
odd jobs for her, usually bartending and deliveries but more recently
‘collections.’ Greta had seen her take down a couple of drunks a few weeks
earlier and decided that she was worth promoting. She didn’t argue when her
promotion came, especially since it tripled her salary.
“Any trouble?”
Greta asked, counting the money.
“Nothing I
couldn’t handle,” she replied.
Greta smiled,
transforming her face, “Good girl. Your payment will be ready in the morning.”
Mackenzie never
asked, but Greta had a presence about her. Mackenzie often wondered if she had
been an actress back in the day. It seemed every young girl who came here
wanted to be one. A few lucky ones got their big break. A lot more got
swallowed by the city. The appeal of acting was lost on her. It was hard enough making ends meet.
Mackenzie left
the way she came in. In the ally, she climbed onto her motorbike. Some people
said that in a city this size you needed a car, but she preferred her Ducati.
Back tire squealing, she headed home.
As she drove
over the crest of a hill, someone stepped into the road. She slowed slightly,
wondering what someone would be doing out this late, on such a deserted stretch
of road.
Flames erupted
in front of her. Mackenzie braked hard, jerking the bike to the left. A wave of
heat hit her. The bike went out from under her, straight over the cliff edge.
She skidded on her back a few feet and came to a stop inches from the flames.
Heat tinged her face like a lover’s kiss.
Unable to catch
her breath, she lay motionless. A man stepped through the flames, unaffected by
the heat. He loomed over her, face hidden in shadow. Could this be the same guy
from the roof? He was about the same size. Her heart jack-hammered in her
chest, leaving her breathless. A
medallion in the shape of an eagle hung around his neck.
“Consider this a
warning,” he hissed, “Stop messing with things you don’t understand.”
Without another
word, he turned and disappeared into the flames, leaving her speechless and
suddenly very afraid.
Mackenzie
struggled into a sitting position, the flames dying around her. Her back burned
and she was sure her leather jacket was a write off, as was her motorbike. She
wasn’t sure what had just happened, but somehow knew, this wasn’t the end.
The man was
gone. He had vanished into the flames as though he’d never existed.
Son of a bitch.
Apparently,
Johnny was better connected than she thought. Or someone was. Greta had a lot
of enemies and since no one could get near her, it made sense they would go
after her employees.
Checking herself
over, she was relieved to find that she wasn’t badly hurt, just a few scrapes
and bruises. She started the long walk home, already plotting her revenge.
Daemon Madness
Daemon Persuasion Series
Book 2
S. K. Gregory
Genre: Fantasy/Supernatural
Publisher: Mockingbird Lane Press
Date of Publication: Oct 26th 2015
ISBN: 978-1944169220
Number of pages: 206
Word Count: 46,000
Cover Artist: Jamie Johnson
Book Description:
Mackenzie Murphy thought her demon troubles were behind her, but with Taryn as her new roommate and his father still out to kill him, it seems there's no getting away from them.
When Taryn begins to act erratically, Mackenzie discovers that he has to face the consequences for saving her life. Deadly consequences.
So it's up to Mackenzie to save him, while avoiding the attention of a local cop and her homicidal boss.
Maybe demons are the least of her worries.
Daemon Madness Excerpt:
Chapter One
Walking as
silently as he could through the St. Patrick’s church, Taryn watched for any
movement. He had an iron-bladed knife in one hand and a small glass vial in the
other.
He scanned the
ceiling of the church. A fluttering noise in the rafters caught his attention.
Illuminating the pews, light streamed through the stained-glass window, but the
ceiling remained in shadow. He knew it was there though. He could feel it
watching him.
As he turned, he
saw it—a leg suspended between the wall and the ceiling. As he moved toward it,
Taryn heard its ragged breathing and as he got closer, it growled softly. “You
know how this ends, Bartlus. Let’s stop playing games.”
Taryn threw
himself forward as the demon launched itself toward him. Taryn hit the floor
and the demon overshot, landing hard on the wood floor and came instantly to
its feet. Taryn spun to face it.
Mackenzie
Murphy’s face stared back at him. Her full lips twisted into a sneer; her
normally green eyes black. Ropey salvia oozed from her mouth onto the floor.
She hunkered down, preparing to pounce, looking more like an animal than a
person.
“One way or
another you are going back in this bottle,” Taryn said.
“You won’t hurt
this body,” Bartlus said in its guttural voice.
“Don’t be so
sure,” he lied.
Bartlus grinned
at him, the expression turning Taryn’s insides to water. He had to remain in
control. If the demon realized he had one second’s doubt as to whether he could
actually kill the demon that had possessed Mackenzie, it would all be over.
“I can see her
thoughts.” It tapped the side of Mackenzie’s head. “Her memories. You killed
your own kin to save her. She’s still in here, screaming to get out.”
“You’re not
leaving this church.”
As it leapt at
him, it knocked him sprawling. Taryn flipped over, pinning Mackenzie’s body
underneath him.
“Is this what
you want?” It asked, “Do you fantasize about this?” It wriggled suggestively.
Taryn held it
down by the throat and chanting the old incantation in Latin put the vial under
its nose. It screamed, bringing Mackenzie’s knee up and connecting with his
groin. Taryn groaned and loosened his grip as pain ripped through him.
Bartlus took the
opportunity to get free. He pushed Taryn over and made a run for it.
Taryn tossed the
knife. It struck the altar, and Bartlus skidded to a halt. The knife had missed
by inches. Bartlus spun in the opposite direction, and Taryn teleported in
behind and flipped the demon onto the floor. This time he made sure to pin all
of Mackenzie’s limbs.
As he finished
the chant, black, oozing smoke poured out of her mouth and nose into the vial.
When it was filled, Taryn sealed it.
Mackenzie choked
and sputtered.
“You okay?”
Taryn asked, sliding off her and onto the floor.
“What the hell
was that?” she moaned.
“Possessor
demon. I warned you not to touch anything.”
“Well, the
bottle didn’t exactly come with a warning label, ‘May cause possession when
opened,’” she snapped.
Taryn sighed.
She was such a pain in the ass.
“Is it gone?”
Father Jared asked as he crawled from under the pew where he had been hiding.
He sweated profusely, his dark hair plastered to his head.
“It’s back in
the bottle.” Taryn tossed it to him.
Father Jared
fumbled it, his thin face losing even more color, leaving him looking like a
ghost, but he got a grip and held on as though his life depended on it—which it
did.
Taryn knew Father
Jared had only just joined the church and was still learning about demons. He
had a long way to go. What was the man thinking? Leaving the bottle unguarded!
“I’ll lock this
away,” Father Jared said, holding it at arm’s length. “Father Thomas will be back
this evening. You can come and talk to him then. Alone.”
“Good idea,”
Taryn muttered.
Mackenzie glared
at Taryn as she picked herself off the floor.
“I didn’t let
the demon in on purpose,” she said.
“I know. Let’s
just forget it, okay?”
He didn’t want
to fight; he was in too much pain. They walked down the aisle to the door.
“So what do
possessor demons do? Other than body-jack you?” Mackenzie asked.
“Not much.
They’re demons who have had their forms taken from them.”
“Can they
possess dead bodies?”
“Only the
recently dead. They can keep bodily functions going temporarily but not for
long. Once the body expires they return to their vessel. In this case, the
bottle. They need living hosts.”
Mackenzie
shivered and pulled a face, “Let’s go home. I need a bath after that.”
Taryn frowned.
She said it so casually. Home. He had only been staying at her apartment for a
few weeks, sleeping on the couch. Just because his father had a contract out on
him didn’t mean it was permanent. He didn’t intend to stay much longer. It
wasn’t like she got anything out of the arrangement anyway, other than picking
up a few fighting techniques and learning about demon lore. Once he found a
base somewhere he was leaving.
As they made
their way down the front steps of the church, Taryn saw him. He froze. Across
the street by a bus stop, he had caught a glimpse of Lucien. A car passed,
blocking Taryn’s view, and by the time it car moved away, his brother, Lucien
had vanished. Taryn scanned the street, but it was as though Lucian never been
there.
“What’s wrong?”
Mackenzie asked.
He shook his
head, “Nothing.” He must have imagined seeing his brother. It had been weeks
since Lucien died. If he hadn’t appeared by now, then he wasn’t going to, was
he?
Daemon Battle, Book 3 will be available to pre-order July 2
To Be Released in September 2016.
About the Author:
S. K. Gregory was born in Northern Ireland in 1985. She is the author of several series of books including the Daemon Persuasion series, which was published by Mockingbird Lane Press. Her latest novel is Hell Hath No Fury: Queen of Hell Book 1.
She loves horror movies, reading and archery. When she isn’t writing, she helps authors through her website by supplying reviews and promotion. All of her works are available to purchase through Amazon.
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