Friday, November 7, 2014
Pure Souls Trilogy by Killian McRae
Pure and Sinful:
APPROPRIATE FOR MATURE READERS ONLY.
When it turns out your ex was actually a sexy demon sent by the devil to seduce you to evil, you'd think the next guy, no matter what he's like, couldn't be a worse decision. Enter Father Marc Angeletti, a smooth talking piece of forbidden fruit with onyx eyes and a razor wit, and Riona Dade may as well start packing her luggage for damnation now. But come Hell or... well, Hell, Marc, Riona, and demigod Dee Zitka have a mission: serve as a Pure Soul and vanquish Lucifer's minion scum from the face of the Earth to protect humanity from evil.
Oh, and don't get seduced into sin yourself, because a fallen Pure Soul is one of Lucifer's biggest thrills. As long as Riona and Marc can keep things professional and north of the sheets, no problem, right?
Yeah, that worked out great in the Thornbirds, too...
Once You Go Demon:
Heaven hath no fury like a demon reborn...
Proving that Big Boss is not without a sense of whimsy, Hell’s former all-star demon, Jerry Romani, finds himself a traded player in the classic war of good versus evil. Taking up residence in the human shell left behind by the death and damnation of Marc Angeletti, Jerry seizes on the chance both to win a trip to the pearly gates and reclaim the heart of witch Riona Dade. Not pleased with the butt-kicking the Pure Souls served up, Lucifer enlists his fallen angel compatriots, the Grigori, to stir up trouble topside. Time ticks closer to the inevitable: Marc's resurrection as a demon on Earth, and Jerry is determined to protect Riona and his shiny new Pure Soul status at all costs. He quickly finds two thousand years of living la vida demonica aren’t easily undone, however, and old habits are hard to break. Walking the true path is problematic, and Jerry finds his role reversed when he must convince Riona that it’s in her best interest to do the same. Even if letting her give into temptation is more conducive to his efforts. And just as Project Woo a Witch starts bearing some forbidden fruit, Destiny delivers one hell of bitch slap. Jerry may have been sent back to Earth to do something Riona can't, something that will ensure the only thing he'll be kissing where she's concerned is his ass goodbye.
With God Intent:
Dionysius Zitka: Pure Soul. Demigod. Widower.
The last time Dee saw his father, his wife Carol lay dead at Zeus’ feet. He vowed never to return, but someone has to rescue Riona from his crazy Greek God family. At least this time the visit should be brief: he just has to sponsor Jerry, find the keystone, and get the hell out of Olympus. Crossing paths with feisty quartergod Anwen Yates proves how the best laid plans sometimes don't mean jack. Seems Anwen has a couple of demons on her tail, and Olympus with its demon-free climate would be the perfect place for her to hide out. The fact that Dee finds her frustrating, funny, and sexy as hell has nothing at all to do with his decision to bring her along. Nope.
Biding her time with Hades and Persephone, Riona feels like a third wheel to the ancient, troubled marriage. The cherry on the cake? Uninvited angels are subject to death in Olympus, and suddenly her magic has a life of its own! Needing to get her heavenly hexing under control before her hybrid heritage is exposed, Hades helps her find an angelic mentor. And wouldn’t you know it that Azazel brings his newly-minted demon Marc Angeletti along for Riona’s target-practicing pleasure. Or maybe just her pleasure in general…
As the days tick by, the lines of right and wrong, purpose and persuasion, and sin and sanctity begin to blur. Rumors are flying, the Heaven-Hell Accords stretch thinner than a sheet of filo dough, and Zeus grows more cryptic by the day. Riona's angelic instincts throw her libido haywire, Hades makes a Hail Mary pass to save his marriage, and Jerry fears that his may be over before it’s even begun. Meanwhile, the two pillars draw closer to Olympus, and Dee closer to facing his father, his family, and his past. But can he honor his wife’s memory, while evermore wanting to do right by Arwen? The road to Hell is paved with God intentions.
About the Author
Killian McRae would tell you that she is a rather boring lass, an authoress whose characters’ lives are so much more exciting than her own. She would be right. Sadly, this sarcastic lexophile leads a rather mundane existence in the San Francisco Bay Area. She once dreamed of being the female Indiana Jones, and to that end she earned a degree in Middle Eastern History from the University of Michigan. However, when she learned that real archaeologist spend more time lovingly removing dust with toothbrushes from shards of pottery than outrunning intriguing villains with exotic accents, she decided to become a writer instead. She writes across many genres, including science fiction, fantasy, romance, and historical fiction.
Read an Excerpt from Pure & Sinful (Explicit)
The donuts weren’t the only things with holes. Though invisible to the naked eye, Riona and Marc had a matching pair in their heads.
“What the Jim Dandy fuck were you thinking?”
Dee struggled with his volume amid the gaggle of middle-of-the-night patrons at Donuts DeJour. Not that he thought any of them gave a damn about anything he was saying. And frankly, a handful of them were suspicious, dark world wash-ups anyways. Failed demons really enjoyed a midnight crueller, from what he heard.
Riona’s expression wore “fuck you” like it was the latest thing off the Paris runway. “It was the charm, Dee. You honestly believe someone as green as I am could stand up to something Asmodeus himself was dishing out? That demon has been heating things up since the Ice Age.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Dee said sweetly. “I didn’t realize you only signed up to fight middle-management evil.” With a blink, the scowl returned to his face. He focused his attention on Marc. “And you, Father Feely. I thought we had this all sorted out with our little powwow the other night? Do you not truly grasp that you were within six inches of damning yourself to Hell and becoming a demon?”
Without looking so much as concerned, Marc pulled a white mug of caffeine sludge to his lips, and rattled off, “About nine inches, actually,” before drawing a sip.
The coffee never reached his mouth. It became a Jackson Pollack-inspired masterpiece on the wall adjacent the table. Dee leapt to his feet, his chair demonstrating the principle of Newton’s first law of motion as he lunged forward and plunged his fist down on the tiled tabletop, cracking it straight down the middle.
“Is this all a joke to you?” he bellowed. “What part of ‘damned for all eternity and serving the dark side as its demon minion’ don’t you get? Yes, someone like Asmodeus is about as hard as they come. You still kicked his ass back to Hell, Riona. Barely. If you’d been ‘distracted’ a minute more, who knows though? You both have got to get a hold of yourselves before things go too far. I refuse to stand by and watch another person I care for get killed for something as silly as love.”
Now it was Riona’s turn to spring. “Jesus H. Christ, I am not in love with the priest here. I don’t know where the hell you and Ramiel get these ideas.”
“Ramiel?” Marc blinked violently several times. “You’re talking to Ramiel about us?”
Dee didn’t miss that dangerous two-lettered word. “Us?”
The witch slashed her hand through the air like a ninja using flies for target practice. “No, there is no us. Marc and I are not a thing. It only came up because Ramiel kept hinting that I have some destined love that’s supposed to shake the cosmos, or start an apocalypse, or melt the polar ice caps, or something. I think he was warning me not to be distracted,” she whipped in Marc’s direction, “by screwing you.”
“Why do I feel like you’re trying to make this my fault?” the priest shot back. “I backed off. I tried to stop. You’re the one who decided to act like a kitty that wanted to climb my tree.”