by Tina Donahue
Don't ever trust a demon. Unfortunately, Megan has learned that lesson too late. The deal she made to save her sister's life has landed her in hell about seventy years early. And now she has three sexy demons trying to tell her what to do.
Nope. Not going to happen.
These guys have never had to deal with such defiance. Andros figures she's due for some erotic discipline, which he'll happily provide. Racan's pure alpha, his hardcore plans include bondage and submission. Quiet yet intense, Vespar expects endless kink to spice up their carnal play.
Who would have ever expected she'd end up falling for them? Too bad demons can't be trusted...because someone is trying to kill the magic and threatening her stay in this lusty world.
How about an Excerpt?
Even during her worst days, Megan Wynters never believed this would happen.
I am so screwed. Afraid to budge, she stood paralyzed in a garish room decorated in more gold and mirrors than Versailles, a weird symbol she couldn’t decipher painted on blood red walls. Displayed throughout the cavernous space were countless marble statues depicting nude men and women screwing or going down on each other or…Thunderous bass from a death metal tune pounded through the wall to her left, the pornographic paintings there bouncing on each deafening beat.
She curled her upper lip, turned and flinched. A guy who hadn’t been in here a second before, sat in the throne-like chair behind the humongous desk. Early thirties or so, he had hazel eyes, and thick blond hair that fell in soft waves to his shoulders. Those suckers and his chest were beyond broad, his well-toned muscles straining against his black silk shirt. Her stomach fluttered at the astounding picture he created, and then her insides clenched when she recalled where she was. That didn’t keep her from eyeing him further. The sun or a tanning lamp had tinted his complexion gold, while his features… Not only were they masculine, but beautiful enough for an angel. Down here? In fucking Hell? Given his great looks, she had to be anywhere but there. Her pulse ticked up. Hope surged. Someone moaned.
The statue to her right was climaxing. Jeezus. The writhing life-sized figures weren’t stone but people, or demons, or something animate. The pure white woman threw back her head and wailed. The pasty guy kept pumping his cock into her. God, god, god. This definitely wasn’t Heaven. But not quite the other place either, considering the coolish air circulating, causing goose bumps to rise on her arms. Rattled and wary, she faced the guy, and then jumped. Two other men, also early thirties, stood on either side of his desk. Both took her in from her mouth to her boobs and lower. Much lower. Unexpected heat rolled through her, her folds creaming at the guys’ raw male appeal, appreciation for their physical gifts stealing her breath and—
Hold it. She couldn’t be turned on by them. It’s a trick. They’re fucking doing this to me because they’re…
Uncertain what they were, she cringed at the possibilities, but still couldn’t glance away.
The one to her right was tall and luscious, his skin olive, his longish black hair combed back. He wore a black tee and low-slung jeans, no shoes or socks. If this were Hell, he should have cloven hooves, not large feet and long toes. Maybe this was purgatory? Please, please, please. That part of the underworld, or whatever they called it, might be bearable.
A pendant hung around his neck boasting a dark red symbol—the same as those on the walls—against a black circle. The blond guy sported an onyx ring on his left forefinger displaying an identical design. Which means? Her stomach rolled and wouldn’t stop. She didn’t want an explanation on what the symbol signified. It might kill her dream this wouldn’t turn out too bad. The third guy had a tat on his left pec showing the exact figure. He’d dressed in black leather pants and biker boots, no shirt, his light brown hair worn short, skin bronzed. Her ears buzzed in approval then rang from unease. The blond smiled, producing deep dimples in his cheeks. Her knees weakened at his normal, friendly greeting. The way a mortal guy would show delight at seeing her and that this could lead to something good. Conversation, a few laughs, then other great stuff. If they behaved nicely, she wouldn’t mind. Damn, she hadn’t had fun in forever.
Another statue climaxed.
Holy hell. Snapped back to reality, she remembered her presence here was a colossal blunder she had to straighten out. Her mouth was so dry she struggled to speak. “I don’t know who you guys are, but—”
“Andros.” The blond touched his thumb to his chest then inclined his head to the shirtless guy.
“Vespar.” He gestured to the one without shoes. “Racan.” His smooth baritone caressed and enticed. “And you’re Megan.”
She wasn’t admitting to anything.
Now for the Interview!
1. Describe yourself in three words.
Persistent. Fair. Impatient.
As to my persistence. Frankly, I don’t know how any author can make it in this field without steely determination. This isn’t a career for sissies. It’s brutal at times, considering the rejections (we all get them), lousy reviews (even Anne Frank: The Diary of a Young Girl got them, along with other notable authors who are overwhelmingly revered), and spotty earnings.
My being fair: I loathe injustice of any kind. That’s often the theme in my books – my heroine and heroes fighting against what’s wrong and trying to right it.
Impatient: If you want to see me in meltdown mode, watch me at my computer while it’s taking its sweet time pulling up a website, when it locks up just for the hell of it, or when Chrome decides to have a fit. Ugh!
2. Cast your book. Tell us who would play the main characters in a movie and why (send pictures!).
OMG, this is fun.
For Megan, my heroine, I suppose Scarlett Johansson would be best as long as she had chestnut hair.
For Vespar, one of my three demon heroes, I’d pick Ryan Gosling hands down. Charlie Hunnam (Sons of Anarchy) would make a killer Andros, right down to the blond hair. I’d definitely like Jason Momoa for Racan. Yummo!
3. What’s your favorite love scene from a movie?
The scene in Ghost where Demi Moore is making pottery and Patrick Swayze is behind her. So good.
4. What’s your wildest fantasy?
Looking like Scarlett Johansson and being in a Caribbean mansion with Ryan Gosling, Charlie Hunnam, and Jason Momoa. Lots of chocolate too.
5. If you were to lose one of your senses, which would you rather lose and why?
Hearing. Since I write most of the day and have extremely noisy neighbors who think everyone loves their ear-splitting music, I doubt I’d miss hearing it.
6. What is the naughtiest thing you did as a kid?
When I was in grade school, I was considered quite the artist. There was another girl who kept trying to keep up with me but couldn’t quite do it. The nun in my homeroom class generally put art supplies for the bulletin boards on my desk to decorate the boards. One day when I got to school a little later than usual, the stuff was on the other girl’s desk. To this day, I’m not sure if the nun was being kind to her or someone else thought it was cute to play with my favorite pastime, but I wasn’t having it. I simply took the stuff and decorated the boards, then pretended nothing was wrong. Admittedly selfish, but the other girl was the class brain. I figured she’d already gotten that title; she couldn’t have mine too.
Boxers or Briefs? Boxers or boxer briefs, the stretchy snug-fitting kind.
Top or Bottom? Bottom. I don’t like doing the work.
Pajamas or nude? Definitely nude. I haven’t used pjs since I’ve been on my own.
Hairy chests or smooth? Both, as long as it’s not too hairy. Just the pecs then a line leading down to their thatch.
Alpha or Beta? Mmm. That’s hard. Alpha in bed. Beta during the emotional times. In other words, someone who listens rather than dictates.
About the Author:
Tina’s an Amazon and international bestselling novelist who writes passionate romance for every taste – ‘heat with heart’ – for traditional publishers and indie. Booklist, Publisher’s Weekly, Romantic Times and numerous online sites have praised her work. She’s won Readers’ 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. She’s featured in the Novel & Short Story Writer’s Market. Before penning romances, she worked at a major Hollywood production company in Story Direction.
On a less serious note: she’s 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. She’s flown a single-engine airplane (freaking scary), rewired an old house using an ‘electricity for dummies’ book, and is horribly shy despite the hot romances she writes.
Author Website: http://tinadonahuebooks.blogspot.com/
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