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Release Day! “Devil’s Night”

October 19, 2012

I’ve been MIA for a bit. I blame the hectic month that is October for Storm Moon Press. Three events in one month, and it was just… a lot. K. is at GayRomLit right now representing SMP, and the weekend she returns, we’re at Necronomicon. @_@ But, I bring you a new release!

K. Piet’s and my short story, The Devil’s Midway, is now available from Storm Moon Press!

The infernal host is on the prowl. They want your soul, and they’re not afraid to bargain for it. They’ll promise you everything you could ever desire, but the price tag may be steeper than you can handle. Whether tempting and seducing mortals, defiling angels, or reveling among themselves, the fiendish creatures in these four haunting tales know that while good is okay, evil is just more fun.

Thaddeus sold his soul to save his family long ago, but the deal he struck with the demon Belial has him spending eternity managing Le Carnaval du Diable, filled to the brim with other’s damned into servitude. Belial wants more than Thaddeus’ soul, though, and his constant advances only add to Thaddeus’ stress as he faces a threat to The Devil’s Midway.

Craig Peters finds himself Hell Bound and destined for an eternity of torture at the hands of the demon Karawan, despite having no memory of the sin that condemned him to this existence. Over time, though, those memories return, along with an unnatural attraction to Karawan, which leads them both down a path neither of them could have possibly imagined.

When the Hounds Come Out to Play, Ryu and Keir are released from their chains to hunt the wayward damned and drag them down to Hell. A breath of freedom is an opportunity for fun, however, and Ryu isn’t about to waste it, even if it means getting caught in a case of mistaken identity with a handsome stranger.

Finally, Beltran is a man of heritage and honor, and when his cousin is brutalized, he has few qualms about consulting a local Inca shaman on her behalf. Little does he know the price of the charm he seeks will make him The Seventh Sacrifice in the amaru demon Kitara’s ancient quest for revenge.

Buy it now in ebook ($4.99) or print ($9.99)!

And I’ll leave you with a taste from The Devil’s Midway. 😀

“Tsk, tsk, manners, sweet boy.” Belial’s eyes took in the sight of Thaddeus spread out on the floor under Belial’s weight. “Now this, Thaddeus, is the position I think you are best suited for. And…” He leaned in, licked up the line of Thaddeus’ throat. “I know it’s what keeps you up, tossing and turning, sweaty and hard.”

Thaddeus thought he was going to be sick even as his body hardened under the minute shifts of Belial’s body. “Get off of me!”

“Patience.” Belial’s hands tightened around Thaddeus’ wrists. “This is what you were hoping for, isn’t it? It’s why you summoned me. Not because of lovesick Leander or some horny sword-eater or skipping a planned stop. You summoned me to tease me with what you think is beyond my reach.” His nose brushed against Thaddeus’ cheek. “You, sweet Thaddeus, aren’t beyond my reach. In time, you’ll come to me willingly. You’ll beg for my lips, my cock, and maybe, if you’ve been a good boy, I’ll give you a taste.”

Thaddeus bucked, trying to kick Belial off of him, but it was useless, and the smirk that slowly curled Belial’s lips left him hot and cold all at once. Clenching his jaw, he breathed in roughly and spat up into Belial’s face. “Taste that,” he growled, his heart trembling with both triumph and fear when Belial’s smirk turned into a cool frown.

“I could send you on a holiday to the deepest circles of Hell for that,” Belial said, still hovering above him.

“But you won’t. Someone has to keep the other carnies in line, run your little freak show for you.” Christ, he hoped his voice was as even and self-assured as he needed it to be. Any weakness, and he was done for.

A muscle twitched in Belial’s face, and Thaddeus couldn’t tell if it was a change for the better or worse. “You are expendable. You can be replaced at any time by one of the thousands who have sold their souls to me.”

A few drips of Thaddeus’ own spittle fell back onto him, and he was unsure which disturbed him more: that Belial hadn’t retreated even a fraction of an inch, or that he hadn’t lifted a finger to wipe himself clean. The proximity of Belial was still intoxicating, like a haze that slowly moved in toward his center, threatening to choke him, and he fought its effects, fought his own body with all the will he had in him. “I’m not replaceable,” he argued at last, his voice little more than a hiss. “I’m the only one with the balls to tell you ‘no’. Besides, even the Devil has standards. You terminate a contract of my length, and there will be hell to pay.”

Belial actually pressed even closer at that, and a single breath of Belial’s scent caused Thaddeus to forget how to breathe. “You think so?”

Had he ever been this close to Belial before? Close enough to smell the musk and darkness and tang of bloodstained treacle? The fragrance was magnetic, as if it pulled him out of himself for an instant. One moment he was pinned to the floor, every nerve alight with tension, and the next, he felt his walls beginning to crumble, everything inside him collapsing under the invisible pressure. It was then that he realized Belial was smirking again, and he renewed his struggle even as Belial withdrew and finally wiped Thaddeus’ saliva from his nose and cheek.

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