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✨ Ancient Conspiracy
⚖️ Race Against Time
✨ Kickass Heroine
🔗 https://geni.us/DevilsAdvocate
I thought I was having a breakdown when I started seeing glowing contracts written on people's skin. Turns out, I was just coming into my inheritance—and uncovering a conspiracy two centuries old.
My name is Margot Kane, and at forty-three, I was one of the best attorneys in Chicago. Then my grandmother died and left me the truth: I'm a crossroads demon, born to negotiate deals between desperate mortals and the gods who've been exploiting them for sport.
My first cursed client? A jazz musician who sold his talent to Baron Samedi. Now the death god wants his six-year-old daughter as payment, and I'm supposed to facilitate this nightmare. Then I find my dead mother's research hidden in my grandmother's things, and everything changes.
Crossroads demons weren't meant to be facilitators. Our purpose is enforcement. We once had the power to nullify predatory contracts, to hold gods accountable, and to protect mortals from divine tyranny. Until 1823, when the lwa convinced us we'd never had that authority at all. They've been running unchecked ever since.
My mother died trying to restore those powers. Now I have three weeks to finish the job that got her killed before my client's daughter is condemned.
Baron Samedi is watching my every move with that infuriating smirk, waiting for me to fail. Papa Legba warns me I'm walking the same path that claimed my mother's life. And Erzulie—the goddess who murdered her—is already sharpening her knives.
I didn't go to law school to start a war with the gods. But I'll be damned if I let them keep exploiting mortals with their stipulations and manipulations.
The retainer is steep. The opposing counsel is immortal. And this career change could cost me my soul. But this time? I'm not just defending my client. I'm taking back everything they stole from us.
For fans of Kim Harrison's The Hollows and Ilona Andrews' Kate Daniels, CROSSROADS OF THE DAMNED is a snarky, sexy urban fantasy where corporate law meets voodoo politics, and the only thing more dangerous than challenging the gods is falling for one.
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About Brenda:
A USA Today bestselling author, Brenda loves everything paranormal. She has co-authored over twenty-five books in the best-selling Dark Warrior Alliance series, as well as the Hollow Rock Shifters series. She also has best-selling solo titles readers are raving about.
Brenda created worlds that feature dangerously handsome heroes and feisty heroines. With the help of popcorn and candy, she takes dragons, fairies, witches, vampires, and so much more and brings them to life. She lives in Texas with her husband and three kids who fuel not only her heart but her life.
If she's not writing, she's reading, traveling, or knee-deep in projects with her husband and five sisters. She encourages readers to Dream Big. If your dreams don't terrify and electrify you then they aren't big enough!
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*****
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Fourth Wing meets From Blood and Ash in this Dark Paranormal Romantasy where dragons fear prophecy—and love may be the final weapon.
Everin Haydon was stolen, tortured, and reshaped into the dreaded Hell’s Fire Dragon, bound as a weapon for a Dragon Council that calls itself righteous.
Across the realms, Lord Tynan, the Demon of Darkness and Chaos, has ascended. His arrival heralds the Three Days of Darkness, and he will burn heaven and earth to reclaim what fate bound to him—his power, his vengeance.But one question if the demon has risen, where is the god meant to stop him?As the dragon world waits for divine intervention, Everin must decide whether she will remain a weapon—or become the fate of the realms.
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EXCERPT:
Dark themes including captivity and experimentation
Before committing, please read the prologue.
This will give you a clear sense of the tone, pacing, and writing style.
The moon hung quietly above Helldreth Fort, its pale glow spilling through the tall windows and brushing the chamber with soft silver. A cool breeze drifted in and stirred the white curtains, their edges sweeping lightly across Everin’s skin. She pulled her silk gown closer, grateful for the warmth of the room. It felt comforting, far more so than the terrible, dark place she had left behind.
Her steps carried her to the mirror in the corner. The reflection staring back looked thinner, as if her body had been carved down to something she hardly recognized.
The neckline of her nightie dipped too low to her liking, drawing her eye to the faint scars across her chest. The lamp light traced their uneven lines, pale and unsettling.
She touched them gently. Everin barely remembered how or when she got the scars.
She pulled the outer robe around her until it covered more of her chest. At least the scars were low enough to stay hidden unless she wore something too revealing.
A sound of footsteps behind her made her turn.
Tariel Fenwick, her first love, stood at the doorway.
Everin froze for a moment. He looked different—stronger, more defined, more man than the boy she remembered. His dark hair rested just above his shoulders with two thin braids at the sides of his head, framing a face sharpened by a faint stubble. His amber eyes, once so warm, now carried a deeper, shadowed intensity.
His shirt hung open across his chest, revealing sculpted muscle that rose with each slow breath, and a leather gauntlet, more like an open finger glove, hugged his left hand like a seamless extension of his skin.
Her gaze lingered longer than she meant it to. He saw that. A slow, knowing smirk touched his lips.
She straightened quickly. “We need to talk, Tariel.”
“Yes,” he replied, approaching her, “but not now.”
“There is a lot I want to understand,” she said quietly. “So much I don’t remember.”
“Later.” He reached her, lowering his voice. “I’ve long waited for this moment with you.”
He stepped closer.
She stepped back.
“You waited for me?” she whispered, searching his face.
“I did,” he said. “More than you know.”
He brushed a fingertip along her arm. She stiffened but felt a flicker of the old pull toward him, a warm memory trying to surface. Her eyes drifted briefly to his lips, those that she had kissed in the past, before she forced herself to look away.
His smirk deepened. “Are we shy now, Everin?” he murmured, amusement warm in his voice.
“It has been a while,” she managed. “Things are not the same.”
“We are,” he said, touching her jaw. “You still feel this.”
She backed away again, but he followed, closing in until she had no space left. Her leg hit the edge of the bed. She lost her balance and stumbled, falling backward onto the soft covers. Instantly, she pressed her elbow into the mattress as she tried to push herself upright and pull her short nightie into place, but she barely had a second.
By the time she braced herself, Tariel was already on the bed. One knee pressed into the mattress, and in a swift movement, he trapped her between his legs. His body loomed over hers, leaving her nowhere to go. His hand slid behind her back and pulled her closer. The other moved to her neck, his fingers settling at her pulse, firm enough to hold her from looking away.
His control was precise and deliberate.
“Tariel—” She sucked in a breath, fear slipping into her voice. “What are you doing?”
His lips hovered above hers, so close she could taste the hint of warmth in each breath he released.
“You belong to me,” he whispered, his voice shifting, deepening, curling around her like smoke. His eyes burned brighter, molten gold spilling across the darkness of his gaze. “You always have.”
Everin’s heart thrashed in her chest. Something ancient stared back at her through his eyes—something demanding, something claiming.
She tried to pull away. “You’re frightening me.”
He leaned closer, lips brushing the edge of her jaw. “You love me,” he whispered.
“You always have. And you will give yourself to me again.”
His mouth dragged slowly toward hers, teasing, commanding, his breath warm against her parted lips.
“I want you,” he said, low and certain. “I want all of you.”
“No.” Everin gasped, turning her head away as panic surged. “Stop. You’re not—”
His fingers tightened at her neck.
He didn’t stop. The Tariel she loved would have.
“I am yours,” he murmured.
She squeezed her eyes shut. Then her voice broke in a whisper—
“You’re not him. You’re not Tariel.”
Author Bio:
La Kayshal is an Australian writer of romance, YA, and children's fantasy novels. She lives with her husband, daughter, and a playful Malshi puppy in the coastal plains of the Sunny State.
Her debut novel, The Lost Crown, is an adventure romance set in the exotic landscapes of India. She also created the much-loved Sylph Series, a whimsical children’s collection that introduces readers to the amazing world of Sylphs, with each book carrying a gentle moral lesson.
A lifelong fan of wizards, magic, dragons, swords, and elementals, she poured all these passions into her YA fantasy Ariston Baker in the Weird Picture Book, a fast-paced journey filled with realms, riddles, action, and adventure.
Her latest project is the Hell’s Fire Dragon series. Book 1, The Flames of Darkness, is a YA Romantasy full of dragons, and Book 2 is set to be released soon.
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