Demonica Underworld Book 3
Demonica Book 11.7
Lords of Deliverance Book 5.7
Evil Eye Concepts

April 26, 2016

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Zhubaal, fallen angel assistant to the Grim Reaper, has spent decades searching for the angel he loved and lost nearly a century ago. Not even her death can keep him from trying to find her, not when he knows she’s been given a second chance at life in a new body. But as time passes, he’s losing hope, and he wonders how much longer he can hold to the oath he swore to her so long ago…

As an emim, the wingless offspring of two fallen angels, Vex has always felt like a second-class citizen. But if she manages to secure a deal with the Grim Reaper — by any means necessary — she will have earned her place in the world. The only obstacle in the way of her plan is a sexy hardass called Z, who seems determined to thwart her at every turn. Soon it becomes clear that they have a powerful connection rooted in the past…but can any vow stand the test of time?

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    Being the Grim Reaper’s second-in-command wasn’t the worst job in the world, but as Zhubaal listened to the bloodcurdling screams coming from the room at the end of the shadowy hallway, he was reminded that it wasn’t the best job in the world, either.

    But it was a necessary one if he ever hoped to find his beloved Laura, whose soul had once been trapped here in Sheoul-gra, the Alcatraz of demon, fallen angel, and evil human souls. Then, thirty years ago, she was paroled — reborn — her soul ensconced in a new body. Zhubaal had been searching for her new identity ever since, but so far he hadn’t had any luck tracking her down.

    He would, though. The oaths that bound them to each other were unbreakable. Pure. And he was tenacious as shit.
    He would find her.

    “Damn.” Razr, a fallen angel who Azagoth had recently appointed to act as Zhubaal’s own assistant, came up next to Z and stared at their boss’s office door. “Who’s in there with him?”

    Z cast a sideways glance at the guy who, as usual, wore plain brown monk-like robes and flip flops. Why he dressed like that, Zhubaal had no idea. Razr refused to talk about it no matter how drunk Z got him. “Some Orphmage who has incredibly bad judgment and thought he could blackmail the Grim Reaper.”

    “Shit.” Razr rubbed his tattooed bald head. “You’re gonna make me clean up the mess, aren’t you?”

    Grinning, Zhubaal clapped him on the back. “Quit whining. This should be the last one today—“ He broke off as a sharp, tingly sensation washed over him in a wave that was almost…sexual.

    Not that he knew what a sexual wave felt like. Not really.

    Sure, he experienced desire like every normal fallen angel, but lonely orgasms weren’t exactly anything to get excited about.

    And this particular wave definitely didn’t mean an orgasm was impending. It meant that someone had activated the portal connecting Sheoul-gra to one of several portals in the earthly realm.

    A visitor was inbound, and the intense residual electric current pulsing through his veins meant the newcomer wasn’t your average lowlife demon begging for an audience with the person in charge of reincarnating souls. Which also meant whoever was about to show up was probably an egomaniacal douchebag.

    Razr felt it too, and he barked out a laugh. “Bet you wish you were the one cleaning demon bits off Azagoth’s walls now, huh?”

    No, but only barely. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with some arrogant demon or holy-rolling angel who reminded him of who he used to be. Not when he’d just learned his latest lead on Laura’s reincarnated identity had fallen through.

    Shooting Razr the finger, Zhubaal exited the building and took the stone steps down to the courtyard two at a time. The fountain in the center sprayed a fine mist over his bare arms as he hurried past it to the portal platform that sat like a miniature helicopter landing pad twenty yards away.

    A column of white light struck from out of the featureless gray sky above, and when it cleared, two angels he recognized stood inside the stone circle on the portal pad. He had no idea who the weapons-heavy female with the short black hair with them was, but she was as pissed as a wet cat being held by its scruff.

    The angel who Z knew only by the code name Jim Bob had his hand wrapped around the back of her neck, forcing her to walk on the tip-toes of her thigh-high boots as they stepped off the platform. Every time she reached for one of the weapons stashed around her body in various holsters, he swatted her hand away as if she were no more bothersome than a gnat.

    Jim Bob shoved her forward. “We found this…creature…attempting to break through the portal.”

    The female’s violet eyes burned with fury. She was pretty in a dangerous sort of way, which only made her prettier. Oh, she wasn’t Zhubaal’s type; he’d always gone for females with less makeup, fewer weapons, and more clothes. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t appreciate a smoking hot female who looked like she could chew him up and swallow too.

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