Friday, December 15, 2017

#FridayFeatures Celebrating Southern Magic Authors #Romance #MakingMagic

Author:  Lexi George

Title:  Demon Hunting with A Sexy Ex

Released:  September 19, 2017


Southern-fried demons. Hell-raising rednecks. And one killer ex-boyfriend . . . 
Cassandra Ferguson McKenna, aka the Witch of Devil River, has only one thing to say to her demon-hunting ex: We are never ever getting back together. Sure, Duncan Dalvhani may be the hottest thing this side of the Mason-Dixon line. He's got a body to die for--which is hard to ignore when he skinny dips in her river every day--and swears he loves her. But as a demon hunter, Duncan is the sworn enemy of a demonoid sorceress like Cassandra. Give him another chance to break her heart? Witch, please. But when Cassandra is attacked by a werewolf, Duncan not only comes to her rescue, he helps her take on a band of magic-drunk moonshiners, fire-breathing demons, shifty shapeshifters, and a pet Sasquatch named Sugar. Welcome to Alabama. But when a portal opens up for even more hellaciousness, Cassandra has to admit that Duncan is slowly opening her heart--to a whole new world of unearthly delights... 


It was time.
Duncan watched the cottage across the river for signs of movement, his skin fevered with anticipation. She was beyond those walls. He was certain of it, for her presence was a throbbing pulse in his veins. Soon, the door would open and she would appear, the Witch of Devil River.

“Witch” was an imprecise term—Cassandra Ferguson McKenna was more sorceress than witch, able to channel the power inherent in earth and stone, in the elements and living things. She was a demonoid, the immortal daughter of a fiend-possessed human, and Duncan was Dalvahni, a warrior sworn to the pursuit of rogue demons, or “djegrali,” as they were also known.

And therein lay the problem.

His and Cassandra’s very natures set them at odds, but the heart counted not the cost. Thus, he lingered near his sweet torment day after day, hoping for a glimpse of her, a starving man scrabbling for crumbs tossed from her table.

Cassandra did not return his regard. She was prickly, his lady, and not one easily to forgive. He had hurt her most cruelly in the past. The knowledge was a wound Duncan had carried lo these many years. It would take time and patience to reclaim her, but he, too, was immortal.

Time, he had aplenty.

He caught a fleeting glimpse of her through the glass panes of the door, and his blood quickened. It was ever thus with Cassandra, this almost painful heightening of the senses, the feeling of being fully alive, a heady mixture of excitement, longing, regret, and desire. Her house was fashioned of clapboards and crowned by a pitched metal roof. Behind the cottage, a grove of heavy-limbed oaks stood sentinel. Situated on a bend in the river, the dwelling afforded a pleasing prospect, and Cassandra could often be found on the porch breathing in the damp perfume of early morning or listening to the bugs singing at twilight.

Duncan’s heart gave an eager jerk as the door swung open and Cassandra stepped out of the house carrying a wooden bread bowl. The air hissed, unnoticed, from his lungs and he drank in the sight of her, absorbing every detail with his enhanced vision. Gods, she was lovely, a beguiling mixture of feminine beauty and strength. The air was thick with humidity, and she wore her fair locks in a casual knot on top of her head for comfort. Wisps of the blond silk had come undone and curled at the nape of her neck. She was clad in shorts and a thin cotton T-shirt that molded to the plump curves of her breasts. Her feet were bare. She was ever wont to run around without shoes, he recalled, swallowing at the sight of her bare legs. He wanted to drag his tongue from the bottoms of her feet to her earlobes, and everywhere in between. Her skin would be soft and smooth, and she would smell of roses and summer rain.

She strode purposefully across the porch and took a seat in one of the chairs. Determined and resolute in all she did, his Cassandra. Plopping the bowl in her lap, she began to shell the garden peas in the container, a slight crease between her elegant brows. Vexing vegetables, to cause his lady to frown. The young woman he remembered had bubbled with laughter, but this Cassandra rarely smiled. She had, in fact, become something of a recluse. The blame for that lay at his door, Duncan knew. ʼTwould be his pleasure—nay, his duty—to coax her from the doldrums.

He strode out of the woods to the riverbank.

“I bid you a good eʼen, Cassandra.” A magical push sent his voice across the broad expanse of water. “And I wish you joy.”

She jumped from her chair, scattering the pea pods across her feet. “You again,” she said in accents of deepest loathing. Tossing the bowl aside, she stomped off the porch and down the sloped lawn to the water’s edge. “I told you to stay off my property. Don’t make me get my gun.”

Lexi George is an author of paranormal romance for Kensington Publishing. Demon Hunting in Dixie, a paranormal romance about a feisty Southern florist who meets an inter-dimensional demon hunter in pursuit of a rogue demon, will be available in April 2011. Close on the heels of that will be The Bride Wore Demon Dust, a novella that is part of a Halloween anthology entitled So I Married A Demon Slayer. The anthology will be released in the Fall of 2011.

Connect with Lexi at     Website     Facebook     Twitter       

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