This looks like a fun romp, so I thought I’d share it with you. Note: I have not read the book. There will be adult-centric matter in this series, including adult fun sexytimes, so approach appropriately. There’s an excerpt at the bottom, which Deborah kindly provided.
She’s just a demon, standing in front of a vampire, trying not to punch him.
Aviva Fleischer has a secret life.
To all appearances she’s a paragon of the magic community. She’s from a respected family and has become a top supernatural operative policing crimes committed by magic humans. In fact, Aviva is about to be promoted to head up her own unit, all by the age of thirty. Exactly as planned.
But should anyone ever learn that she’s a half-demon—an infernal—her entire life will go scorched earth. In her world, vampires are celebrated like rock stars, but demons, their kissing cousins, are reviled and hunted. Talk about a double standard.
Then a rash of bizarre murders break out and the Powers That Be opt to make her co-leader of a special new squad. One that mixes humans with their vampire counterparts—investigators who hunt down rogue vamps and demons.
Co-leader? Seriously? That major wrench in her leadership plans is bad enough, but even worse? She’s being partnered with Ezra Cardoso, jet set vamp and playboy extraordinaire. Aviva should know—he broke her heart six years ago.
Ezra is also the only one other than her mom who she’s trusted with her secret. Will he betray her to get ahead? Try it: she’s got a wooden stake with his name on it.
Here’s the excerpt!
Sources speculated that the reason Ezra Cardoso was ridiculously photogenic was because he was a Prime. He never exhibited a wonky eye, an unfortunate double chin, or a flat out “burn it” picture like the rest of us mere mortals. Even so, photos failed to capture how the mere quirk of his lips could express ten thousand words of amusement or how when he leaned in, totally intent on whatever you were saying, he made you feel seen in a way no one else ever had.
I braced myself for the force of him live, but the person who strode through the door was so unlike my first love that it was almost like seeing a stranger.
Any softness in Ezra’s face was gone, replaced by a ruggedness in his straight nose, full lips, and well-defined jawline that better fit the image of a man raised to be heir to a vampire Mafia.
He’d bulked up, his formerly lean frame now a V shape. The jacket of his blue three-piece suit hugged his ripped biceps and broad shoulders like he was a modern-day conqueror and this was his bespoke armor.
The Ezra I’d known wouldn’t have been caught dead in this outfit.
Michael smiled. “Do come in.”
I frowned at the way Ezra studied her like a lion determining a threat or prey, every inch the Crimson Prince, then realized it was Ezra’s silvery-blue eyes under his thick arched eyebrows that made it both easier and a million times harder to look at him. Where once they’d caught the light, rippling and ever changing, they were now hard crystals promising knifelike edges, despite the easy grin he bestowed on my mother.
“Director,” he said.
One word in that smooth, low baritone and my heart exploded against my ribs so hard I was positive it drowned out all other sound in the room.
His gaze lasered on to me and he went stock-still, his eyes never leaving mine.
A shiver ran down my spine. I crossed one leg over the other, blessing the fates for having worn the wine-colored pencil skirt (that I’d bought as an early celebration gift) with my sheer black hose, and high heels with a bright pop of scarlet on the soles. My tailored white shirt with three-quarter sleeves and a teasing hint of cleavage completed the look.
Something flickered in the depths of his gaze, but it was gone in an instant. “Aviva,” he said in a bland voice.
I waited for some awkward follow up small talk but got nothing. It was as if he couldn’t be bothered to find out how I’d been.
All right. Two could play that game.
“Cardoso,” I replied coolly.
I’d have relished his tight expression, but I was busy telling myself his brush-off didn’t matter. It was the first exposure and would be the worst. Now, like a virus, I’d been infected and could build my immunity.
He transferred the gift bag he held to his other hand. “Am I interrupting something?”
“Not at all.” Michael motioned to a seat.
Ezra took the chair next to mine with no hesitation. My presence didn’t disturb him a whit.
I’d have brushed him off just as easily, but I caught a whiff of his cologne with its notes of cardamom, cloves, and bergamot, a spicy orange smell. It was mixed with the fresh, cool scent of a windswept summer breeze that was all him, and I was hurled back to all the times he’d teased me for pressing my nose to his T-shirts to sniff him.
I dug in my skirt pocket for a package of mints, practically huffing the candies before popping one in my mouth.
He raked a wayward lock off his forehead. His black curls had grown out since we were together, now slightly untamed. (Primes could grow their hair, all other vamps were stuck with the length they had at death.) This longer style lent him a rakish air, yet there was a maturity to him that he wore well. Combined with his close-cropped black beard and mustache, he resembled a pirate. Or the physical representation of sin.
Big deal. It had been six years. He changed; I’d changed.
I crunched my mint into dust.