Erotic Paranormal Romance
A hotter-than-sin reaper. A badass demon. Hell doesnât get steamier than this.
Zekiel owns the newest nightclub in the French Quarter. The decadent atmosphere draws the corrupt, their blackened souls just what he likes to reap.
Jewel is not amused. Not only has Zekiel cut in on her territory, Satanâs gotten hardcore, upping her quota. All hellâs going to break loose if mortals donât start selling their souls to her.
The race is on. Zekiel claims victory and wants Jewel as his prize for one evening. Nothing forbidden. Nothing denied. In other words, the whole enchilada, including voyeurism and BDSM.
After the first promising look and lingering touch, theyâre gonersâ¦even though theyâre supposed to be competitors.
This book was previously published in a box set.
He brushed his lips over her ear. âAre you challenging me?â
She was a hot mess, unable to do anything except submit. His breath was fresh and warm, his muscles harder than stone. âChallenge you to what?â Us doing the horizontal tango? Bondage? Punishment?
âTo see who can claim a soul faster. You seem to think you can.â He snuggled his tongue into her ear.
Jewel shivered. Her knees bumped his. âNot seem. Know. What happens when I win?â
He laughed, his chest and hard stomach quivering.
She should have slugged him but couldnât find the strength. His beard-roughened cheek scoured hers in the best possible way. Never again would she consider reapers loathsome creatures worse than pond scum. However, he had still horned in on her turf. That deserved retaliation.
She broke free from his grip and stroked his inner arm.
She purred. âWhatâs the matter, baby? Afraid of real competition?â
He eased back slightly. Charcoal locks dangled over his forehead, begging her to ease them into place.
His dimpled smile returned. âAre you serious? Competition from you?â
Certainly not from other reapers who usually resembled Lurch in that ancient TV show The Addams Family. Even if those guys hadnât owned the kiss of death, their looks alone sent mortals scurrying for cover. âHow about we give it a try?â She shoved him off her. âWhen I win, Iâll determine your new role at this place.â
âWhen you win? Iâd say âifâ isnât even close.â He bent down until their noses nearly touched. âWant to know what I want when you lose?â
Her expelled from here and roaming New Orleans like a whipped dog, desperately scouring the surroundings for mortals to corrupt so sheâd make this monthâs quota. If that didnât happen, Satan might renege on the one promise heâd made her. The reason sheâd willingly sold her soul when she shouldnât have.
Love hadnât given her a choice.
She shook off the unchangeable past and steeled for battle. âI donât care what you want, because my losing to you wonât happen. The second I win, I want full access to this place from midnight to seven a.m.â
âMy operating hours.â
âBingo. I expect you to round up the most likely candidates and let me do my thing. No hassle or interference. Itâs only right given that youâre trespassing in my hood.â
He played with the top bow on her bustier. âSure you donât want to hear what happens when I win?â
She brushed his hand away. âShall we begin?â
âFine with me.â He tugged the ribbon, untying it.
Jewel leaned into his touch then stopped and pulled away. âWeâre wasting time.â Satan wasnât going to wait forever for her newest report. âGood luck.â
âThanks, but youâre the one whoâs going to need it.â He ignored her offered hand and swung his to the side, touching a twentysomething guy who strolled up. He sported thick Goth makeup. Metal studs dotted his face in a haphazard pattern.
With Zekielâs touch, the young man turned whiter than nature or Revlon allowed, clutched his chest, and dropped to the floor.
The guys behind him giggled drunkenly and stepped over his corpse to leave the club.
Zekiel blew on his forefinger as one would a smoking gun. âWow. Looks like I win.â
She gestured frantically. âBring him back. Heâs too young to die. Heâs not even corrupt.â Despite his macabre appearance, his soul smelled of sunshine and hope.
Zekiel regarded the poor slob. âWhat do I get if I do?â
âFine, reap him.â She crossed her arms. âIâll even call 911 for them to collect the remains. Iâm not leaving without my quota.â
He muttered something that sounded nasty and revived the young man.
The kid teetered to his feet and blinked repeatedly. âI just saw Heaven.â
Jewel rubbed her temple.
âIt was beautiful.â He bounced on his heels. âI wanna go back.â
âMaybe tomorrow night.â Zekiel waved his hand.
The gust that produced whizzed the kid to the exit and out the door.
Zekiel faced her. âSeems like you need me to take a handicap to make our competition remotely fair.â
âFair would be you taking off and letting me have this place.â
Laughter shook him. âTell you what, you pick the victim.â
âNot until I know you wonât touch him until Iâve closed the deal.â
âThatâs giving away the keys to the castle.â
She stroked his throat, enjoying how hard he swallowed. âWould it be so bad if I won?â
Tinaâs an Amazon and international bestselling novelist who writes passionate romance for every taste â âheat with heartâ â for traditional publishers and indie. Booklist, Publisherâs Weekly, Romantic Times and numerous online sites have praised her work. Sheâs won Readersâ Choice Awards, was named a finalist in the EPIC competition, received a Book of the Year award, The Golden Nib Award, awards of merit in the RWA Holt Medallion competitions, and second place in the NEC RWA contests. Sheâs featured in the Novel & Short Story Writerâs Market. Before penning romances, she worked at a major Hollywood production company in Story Direction.
On a less serious note: sheâs an admitted and unrepentant chocoholic, brakes for Mexican restaurants, and has been known to moan like Meg Ryan in When Harry Met Sally while wolfing down tostadas. Sheâs flown a single-engine airplane (freaking scary), rewired an old house using an âelectricity for dummiesâ book, and is horribly shy despite the hot romances she writes.
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