Ferris
Ryder has a choice to make. He can reclaim the past, which he now consciously
keeps from his memories, or he can let all that he fears to remember destroy
the present and the Elemental Coven he has come to love. Has the mysterious
Elaine come into his life to be his guiding angel or will she tear his world
apart, along with that of his coven family?
Demon Interrupted Excerpt
‘What
the hell?’ Ferris roared like an angry beast as he fought his way out of a
blackberry bramble to land hard with his naked arse on the rocky ground. The
thick summer night effervesced with the tingle of strong magic, and the sting
and bite of the bramble were evidence that he had been called, very
unceremoniously, into physical form, but who would have treated him with such
disrespect? And other than Lucia, the Fire Demon, and the demon who now
possessed that evil aberration spawned in the Americas -- what was it he called
himself Deacon -- there were few who could have done such a thing. Besides,
what would either of them want with him? And certainly it behoved them to treat
him with a little more respect than to up-end him bare-arsed and bleeding in a
thicket. Whoever had done it, when he found them, they would be sorry for
humiliating him so. He would make certain that they …
The yelp
of a female voice put a halt to thoughts of punishing the transgressor. As he
turned, the dance of firelight dazzling his eyes made him think for a moment
that it was Lucia, who had summoned him. The Fire Demon’s sense of humour was
evil at best. But the flames were nothing more than a tiny blaze set in an
insignificant fire pit. And then he saw her. Beyond the blaze the woman stood
as naked as he was with lustrous dark hair that hung down her back and over the
swell of her breasts. He would not have imagined it to be possible, but the
slender woman, body burnished golden in the firelight was the source of the
magic that had summoned him.
‘What do
you want, little girl, and why have you called me in such an uncivilised
manner?’ He said, making his voice as thunderous as possible and pulling the
shadows around him like a cape because it lent him at least a little of the
dignity she had stolen from him.
But she
did not cower. Instead she squared her shoulders and stood to her full height,
which, as with most mortal women, was not significant compared to his. ‘I am no
little girl, Rider, and I have summoned you to do my bidding.’
Though
he made no effort to hold back the roar of his laughter, the mortal did not so
much as cringe. ‘You summoned me to do your bidding, little one? You are either
very brave or very stupid.’ With a sudden flick of his wrist the wind rose and
swirled around her, whipping her hair across her face and then back over her
shoulders, and he saw that she was, indeed, no little girl. Her breasts were in
the full bloom of womanhood crowned by roseate nipples that peaked in the cool
kiss of the wind he had summoned. His cock rose in response to her, and for the
first time since his unceremonious arrival, he was pleased to be in physical
form. This human, this mortal woman was delicate of build, skin as pale as the
finest porcelain, skin that seemed lit from within, skin that contrasted with
hair that was night itself and eyes that were like a moonless sky. Her hips
flared away from her center as though they hugged the soft pillowing of dark
curls that caressed her womanhood, and she stood unladylike, with her feet set
wide apart on the ground so that even his tempest did not unbalance her.
‘I am
neither brave nor stupid,’ she said, when the wind settled enough that she
could catch her breath to speak. ‘I am without recourse.’
He moved
closer to her, so that the fire did not interfere with his vision of her, and
still she did not flinch. ‘You must be desperate, indeed, if you would summon a
Soul Rider to do your bidding.’
She
ignored his statement. ‘You have it within your power to visit horrible
hallucinations upon those who displease you, do you not? It is within your power
to drive them form their sanity, and it is said that you have power even to
drive them to their death. Is that not so?’
He moved
still closer, until he could see the rapid rise and fall of her chest that
belied the nerves she hid so well, until he could feel her warm breath against
the body that now held his essence. ‘Shall I demonstrate that of which I am
capable upon you, little one?’ As he reached for her, she stepped back.
‘I do
not need your demonstration, Rider. I only need you to use those powers in my
service.’
This
time he stepped close enough that she had to bend her slender neck back as far
as she could to look up into his eyes. ‘And might I ask what’s in it for me?’
‘Anything.’
Her breath caught in her throat and for the first time he felt the passion of
her request with the intensity of the powerful magic she had just performed and
what that magic had cost her. And was that passion tinged with more than a hint
of despair? ‘Anything you ask.’
‘And if
you are the payment I demand?’
Her
eyelids fluttered and her voice was little more than a whisper. ‘As I have
said. Anything you ask.’
That she
did not frighten easily, that she was braver than most men who had, ultimately,
cowered before him made him want to taste her fear all the more. ‘Then I shall
have you.’ He pulled her to him and took her mouth, not expecting the full pout
of her lips to part for him, not expecting her body to relax and soften into
his embrace nor her arms to encircle his neck. As his tongue flicked over hers,
he was stunned to find it was not fear he tasted; it was power, exhilaration,
need, mixed again with a heavy patina of desperation, and all of those tastes
in this woman made him want her even more. His cock stretched hard, pressed
against the tensing muscles of her belly. The pillowed press of her breasts
against him in her battle for breath made him want to take more of her breath,
so that the pumping of her lungs would keep her fullness rising and falling and
nestling against him.
He
unclenched her fingers from behind his neck and guided her hand down between
them, down to rest on his cock. ‘It has been long since I have worn flesh. My
need is nearly beyond my control. It may well be that I would split your
fragile frame in two, little girl.’
Before
the words were off his tongue, she circled his hardness with slender, but
strong fingers, and began to stroke the length of him, whispering in his ear.
‘I told you, whatever you asked, and I am not nearly so fragile as you might
think.’ But then the brazen child did something he could have never
anticipated. She stepped out of his embrace, back just enough that he could not
easily touch her. ‘But I am not yours for the taking until you have done my
bidding, Rider. Then split me in two, you may, or in a thousand pieces if it
please you.’
He
growled his frustration, and his cock bucked against his belly. ‘I do not need
your permission to take you, little one.’ He took a menacing step closer to
her, and she stepped back again until she stood flush with the bramble behind
her. ‘Nor do I need to do your bidding. After all, your invitation was not very
polite, now was it?’
‘There
was no invitation, Demon. There was a summoning and a bargain to be struck.’
‘Again,
I will ask you why should I not take what I want now rather than wait. I am the
one who --’
His
words died in his throat as her power buzzed over him, a bolt of lightning and
a touch of silk and he sucked breath to keep from humiliating himself as the
content of his balls threatened to spill at her feet. Though in truth, he was
not sure that perhaps it was his very life force that this woman, this witch
threatened to coax from his cock with her magic. He raised his hands, palms
facing her, in a gesture of peace. ‘Tell me then, what is it you want, little witch.’
She
studied him for a moment with eyes bottomless as the night sky. ‘I want you to
ride the soul of my enemy. Make him suffer long and hard, make him pay for what
he has done. If this you do for me, then I am yours to do with what you will.’
‘Are you
sure this is a price you can afford to pay, little witch?’ With a move that was
no more human than he was, he pulled her into his arms and fisted her thick
mane of soft hair and shoved it off her shoulders, seeking to admire the
delicacy of the mortal form, as one did art in a gallery -- beautiful creations
that were far too fragile for any practical purpose. Their fragility in itself
a part of their attraction, and his ability to break them somehow made them
even more valuable to him. With his eyes shut, he tracked the beat of her pulse
to the soft spot on her throat, then bent to nuzzle her there, and just as she
moaned a sigh, he bit her in that spot against the thud, thud, thud of her
tenuous life force.
At first
he thought the near sob that breeched her lips was a release of her pleasure,
disappointingly easy, he thought. It was as he opened his eyes that he saw the
bruises on her neck, green and angry in the dance of the flames, and he
realised the sob had been one of pain. Though he was no fire demon, the thought
of his little witch -- for that is how he thought of her now, as his possession
-- the thought of her in pain kindled a strange inferno in his belly that
burned with the same rage he would have felt if someone had so marred the Mona
Lisa’s perfection. ‘Who did this to you?’ Even as he spoke, he noticed other
bruises on her arms, on her hips … on the insides of her thighs. ‘Who did this
to you,’ he growled.
She
shoved her way free from his embrace and stumbled backward nearly falling before
she caught herself. He could taste the rage rolling off her, overpowering the
desperation, overpowering the longing, overpowering all else to the point that
it was he who was rendered breathless by it. ‘The one whose soul I wish you to
ride, the one who I seek revenge upon. He did this to me and more than even
your demon eyes can ever see. He took everything from me, and I want him to
pay! I want him to pay!’
Guest Post:
Guest Post:
Behind Every Good Man
Giveaway: Please help me celebrate the
launch of Demon Interrupted. I’m giving away a $30/£20 Amazon gift voucher.
Enter via the Rafflecopter for chances to win!
Thanks
so much for helping me celebrate the launch of Demon Interrupted, Muffy! It’s
always a pleasure to guest with you.
We’ve
all heard the old saying, behind every good man there's a woman, and most of us
would agree quite often that’s the case. We all need the support of someone who
believes in us. Well, I just want to add to that little gem that behind every
ravenous demon there's … a powerful witch!
Dante
had Beatrice to guide him through the seven levels of hell and Ferris has
Elaine to guide him back from his own hell, back to himself. Women read most of
the erotica consumed and certainly they write most of it, just as they do
romance. I think there's a very good reason for that. Women are not only able
to love and long for the hero, but they are also able to put themselves in the
place of the strong heroine who guides the hero back to himself. I think
we can take that one step further to say that women can also identify very much
with the hero and his battle to find himself, his battle to be a better man.
While it’s true that these days gender roles are less defined and entrenched
than they were even fifty years ago (how many of us cringed at Mad Men’s
realistic treatment of women in the late fifties and early sixties?), I think
the truth is women have always been able to take upon themselves the role of a
hero because women have always been the unsung heroes. The big difference is
that now those heroic roles are obvious in a world where everything is made
visible through the Internet and television.
In
Demon
Interrupted, it is Elaine who summons Ferris, who in her time doesn't
even have a name. She summons him at great risk to herself. That she is able to
summon him at all is a testament to her own power. That she summons him for
something as seemingly unfeminine as an act of vengeance and that she is
willing to sacrifice all for that vengeance speaks to her own desperation and
her own indomitable spirit. In the beginning, she needs his power to accomplish
her desires, but in the end it is she who leads him home. That being the
case, then I would have to say it is also true that sometimes’ behind a
powerful witch, there’s a good demon. Certainly that’s the case more often than
once in the Lakeland
Witches Series,
of which Demon Interrupted is the fourth novel.
Thanks
again for having me over, Muffy.
About K
D Grace/Grace Marshall
When she’s not writing, K D is veg gardening. When she’s not gardening, she’s walking. She walks her stories, and she’s serious about it. She and her husband have walked Coast to Coast across England, along with several other long-distance routes. For her, inspiration is directly proportionate to how quickly she wears out a pair of walking boots. She also enjoys martial arts, reading, watching the birds and anything that gets her outdoors.
KD has erotica published with SourceBooks, Xcite Books, Harper Collins Mischief Books, Mammoth, Cleis Press, Black Lace,Sweetmeats Press and others.
K D’s critically acclaimed erotic romance novels include, The Initiation of Ms Holly, Fulfilling the Contract, To Rome with Lust, and The Pet Shop. Her paranormal erotic novel, Body Temperature and Rising, the first book of her Lakeland Witches trilogy, was listed as honorable mention on Violet Blue’s Top 12 Sex Books for 2011. Books two and three, Riding the Ether, and Elemental Fire, are now also available.
K D Grace also writes hot romance as Grace Marshall. An Executive Decision, Identity Crisis, The Exhibition, Interviewing Wade are all available.
Find K D Here:
Websites: http://kdgrace.co.uk/
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/KDGraceAuthor
Twitter: https://twitter.com/KD_Grace
Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/kdgraceauthor/
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Muffy, likened in style to one of the Bronte sisters and Anne Rice, is an award winning bestselling author of provocative romance about love, sex, hope and passion. An American author of the popular Shadow Seduction Series (a paranormal love story) and the Ribbons of Moonlight Series (a contemporary romance), she has penned a dozen other books and anthology collections.
Muffy was born in Texas to traditional parents. With two older brothers, she was the youngest, the family "princess," indulged and pampered. Her father was a career Colonel and pilot in the U.S. Air Force which required the family to travel extensively. Muffy spent her formative years in Europe and 'came of age' in France which forged her joie de vivre and love for books and writing. Married and living in the tropical paradise of SW Florida along the Gulf Coast, Muffy writes and enjoys life in the sun with her husband and wee Havanese pup, Burt.
Muffy was born in Texas to traditional parents. With two older brothers, she was the youngest, the family "princess," indulged and pampered. Her father was a career Colonel and pilot in the U.S. Air Force which required the family to travel extensively. Muffy spent her formative years in Europe and 'came of age' in France which forged her joie de vivre and love for books and writing. Married and living in the tropical paradise of SW Florida along the Gulf Coast, Muffy writes and enjoys life in the sun with her husband and wee Havanese pup, Burt.
Join Muffy's mailing list to get the scoop on her new releases and special promotions at www.MuffyWilson.com. Follow her on Facebook at facebook.com/wilsonmuffy or /MuffyWilson.com and on Twitter at @SexyMuffyWilson. Muffy also blogs daily here: http://muffywilson.blogspot.com ~ Contact Muffy at Muffy@MuffyWilson.com. ~ Live, Laugh, Love with Passion
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I was born when we kissed; I died when we parted. I lived in your embrace while we loved..........