Forged
in Fire
The
Vessel Trilogy
Book
One
Juliette
Cross
Genre: Urban Fantasy/Paranormal
Romance
Publisher: Samhain Publishing, Ltd
Date of Publication: January 27, 2015
ISBN: 9781619224919
ASIN: B00MHL2UR6
Number of pages: 318 pages
Word Count: 98,000
Cover Artist: Kanaxa
She never knew this demon world
existed. Now she just wants to survive it.
Genevieve Drake never needed a
man to come to her rescue. Not until the night of her twentieth birthday, when
some dude nearly chokes her to death in an alley behind a New Orleans Goth
club. And a hot stranger splits the guy in half, rips a monster from inside,
and incinerates it into ash.
The hunky rescuer? Jude
Delacroix—Dominus Daemonum, Master of Demons, now her guardian, whether she
likes it or not. But she’s seriously beginning to like it.
Her would-be murderer turns out
to be only the first of many minions of the demon prince, Danté, who has all
kinds of lascivious and sadistic plans. Which means when the formidably
beautiful Jude offers his protection, Genevieve has no problem accepting it.
For Jude and his fellow demon
hunters tell her she is a Vessel, one who is born to serve the Light, but can
be corrupted into a weapon of darkness. And to survive, she must trust a man whose
unearthly eyes promise heaven…but whose powers unleash hell.
Warning: Contains a
dark and brooding demon hunter who harbors even darker secrets, a snarky
heroine who’s being hunted by every demon in the underworld, and a sadistic
demon prince with a fancy for violent sexual encounters.
Excerpt
I’d parked illegally on the
street, knowing full well I’d probably have a ticket on the windshield when I
returned. Campus cops were like sharks in bloody waters, sniffing out offenders
with notorious stealth. You never saw them but sure as hell felt bitten when
they got you. Dreading to see that I’d been attacked by one of these predators,
I rounded the corner, and my heart stopped.
Propped beautifully against my
silver 350ZX was my rescuer, R-and-B from last night. Faded jeans fit snugly on
his hips, and a gray T-shirt accentuated a perfect upper body. His black hair
fell just right across lovely dark eyes. With casually crossed arms, he watched
me approach.
Heart, please stop pounding that
way before he notices.
This was no accident. He’d found
me somehow. Should I be afraid? He didn’t look dangerous. Well, not in a
serial-killer sort of way. Hell, he looked good enough to eat. Totally faking
bravado, I stopped in front of him with one hand on my waist.
“Are you stalking me?”
He didn’t answer, eyeing me from
bottom to top. His gaze paused at my throat, then finally made its way to my
eyes. Still mute. I hated awkward silences.
“Didn’t your mother ever teach
you it’s not polite to stare?”
That seemed to jar him a bit. He
straightened, his expression grim at best.
“I apologize. I was—”
“Checking me out. Yeah, I got
that loud and clear.”
Damn, I was brave. He cleared his
throat, hiding a smile now.
“I was going to say, examining
you.” He gestured to my neck.
“Examining? Why? Are you a
doctor?”
“Of sorts.”
“What sort of sort?”
“I have a doctorate.”
No way. He seemed too young to
have a PhD.
“A doctorate in what?” I asked skeptically.
“Philosophy.”
“Your expertise?” I asked, noting
the rather sarcastic lilt in my voice. He didn’t bat an eye.
“My thesis was on how weapons
reflect the savagery and sophistication of a culture.”
That accent again. Definitely
European. But what country?
“Well, a PhD in weaponry may give
you some idea how to inflict injuries, but it doesn’t qualify you to examine
and diagnose them.”
“True.”
Ha! One point for me.
“So…” I let the word hang. “How
could you possibly have a PhD in anything at your age?”
“I’m older than I appear.”
A slow, slow devastating smile. A
fluttering in my stomach felt like a frantic flock of blind birds. Re-lax, Gen.
Thank God he spoke, because for the moment, my lips had completely forgotten
how to form words.
“I simply wanted to determine
whether you’d recovered from last night’s attack,” he said, pushing off my car
and coming closer.
Oh no. He was going to touch me.
Genevieve Elizabeth Drake, do NOT faint. He reached out and gently folded back
my hoodie. He lifted my chin and angled it so that he could see the marks I
knew were purpled along the left side. Why was I letting this stranger get so
close? Even if he was picture-book gorgeous. I pushed his hand away and stepped
around him to my car.
“I’m fine,” I mumbled, pulling
the keys from the front pocket of my backpack. “What I want to know is how you
knew where to find me. And why are you following me? It’s a bit creepy, even if
you did save my life last night.”
We’d now switched places. I
leaned back against my car. He stood there, examining me again, thumbs hooked
in the front pockets of those yummy jeans.
“Yesterday was your twentieth
birthday, wasn’t it?”
Okay. Double creepy.
“How did you know?”
My question confirmed whatever
idea he had in his head. I could see it in the nod and drop of his perfect
cleft chin.
Two girls flitted by, engrossed
in a conversation. One nudged the other when they caught sight of him, ogling
shamelessly. They giggled. Couldn’t blame them, but it pissed me off for some
reason. R-and-B gave them no real notice, turning back to me.
“I think we should go somewhere
private to talk.”
Said the creepy man to the little
girl with a lollipop and a white van waiting around the corner.
“Um, I don’t think so.” I crossed
my arms. “I don’t know you. And no matter what you did for me last night, at
this point, I don’t trust you.”
He shifted weight to his other
leg. “As you wish. We’ll talk here.”
“Not that I’m ungrateful, but why
were you following me last night? Into the alley?”
“I wasn’t following you. I was
following the demon.”
“Fair enough. How did you know it
was my birthday?”
“Last night, I wondered but
thought it impossible. I had not thought to meet another like you in all my
time as a…” He paused, glancing around and lowering his voice. “As a Dominus
Daemonum.”
I shook my head. “Okay, hold up.
Met one what before? And what the hell is a dominus da-whatever-you-said?”
Dark enchanting eyes kept me
still, even with my saucy attitude. A face chiseled in stone regarded me with
care. I would never admit it, but I was afraid to move. Something in those
almost-black depths warned me what he spoke of now would change my life
forever. What’s more, I knew those words. They were Latin. But the translation
in my head didn’t make sense.
“The what is a Vessel,” he
finally said. “And a Dominus Daemonum is a Master of Demons.”
“Do you mean like a…a demon
hunter?”
He nodded. No smile.
“That is what I am,” he said.
“And what’s a Vessel?”
“That is what you are.”
About
the Author
Juliette calls lush, moss-laden
Louisiana home where the landscape curls into her imagination, creating
mystical settings for her stories. She has a B.A. in creative writing from
Louisiana State University, a M.Ed. in gifted education, and was privileged to
study under the award-winning author Ernest J. Gaines in grad school. Her love
of mythology, legends, and art serve as constant inspiration for her works.
From the moment she read JANE EYRE as a teenager, she fell in love with the
Gothic romance--brooding characters, mysterious settings, persevering heroines,
and dark, sexy heroes. Even then, she not only longed to read more novels set
in Gothic worlds, she wanted to create her own.
Website: https://www.juliettecross.com/
Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/Juliette-Cross/e/B00MQ18Z1W/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/Juliette__Cross
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