Title:
Death Is A Bitch
Author:
Cate Masters
Genre:
Fiction, Paranormal, Romance,
Publisher:
Decadent Publishing
Ebook
Words:
34800
Purchase:
Book
Description:
Eternity
can suck when it’s all work, work, work. Death harvests souls even
when they stack up faster than pancakes in an all-you-can-eat-buffet.
No wonder she can’t shed the Grim Reaper rep.
As the
patron angel of death and dying, Azrael works closely with Death but
is dying for true intimacy. She’s the only immortal who’s ever
aroused such powerful emotions in him. One taste of her leaves him
needing her like humans need air and food, but will a demon’s lies
leave a bad taste?
No one
escapes Death – except King Sisyphus. Twice. With the help of
Damien the demon, Sisyphus tries again, and she’s determined to
have justice. Some say Death’s a bitch, but only when she has to
be. But will the price of justice be a broken heart?
Excerpt:
Death
stepped from the shadowy curtain of night along a deserted stretch of
road toward the mangled hunk of cherry-red metal that used to be a
sweet Z240 sports car. Stardust glinted in the black hair that dipped
to her waist.
She kept
a safe distance from the wreck. Inside, a thirtyish man slumped
behind the wheel, the air bag deflating away from his near-lifeless
body. Blood oozed from a nasty gash to his head. Should have worn his
seat belt. Too late for life lessons, though. Those weren’t her
expertise anyway. Just the opposite.
Leaves
crackled in the underbrush beyond the nearby trees. Death gripped the
silver charm bracelet on her wrist, her senses on high alert. Her
finger poised near the hidden latch, ready to release a stream of
lightning.
A deer.
It stilled, its wide eyes fixed on her.
Seeing
nothing else, she continued with a modicum of caution. Taking souls
didn’t exactly make her popular, and after so many millennia, she
should’ve been used to it. The bad jokes. The Halloween parodies. A
scythe? Please. She’d never used cheap props. Only the finest
weaponry. No mortal ever suspected the intricately designed baubles
adorning her bracelet were anything more than ornamental.
Moonlight
gleamed off the curves of the sports car, and she ran a gilded nail
along its hood. She wouldn’t mind taking one of these babies for a
spin. In its former condition, of course, before this guy took the
curve too fast and wrapped it around a tree. Humans always rushed
everywhere, sometimes straight into her arms.
The
man’s moan signaled she had no need for weapons. This one would
give her no trouble. She fingered his blond hair, matted with blood.
What a shame. So young, and so handsome. He’d leave at least one
lover grieving, no doubt.
His eyes
fluttered open. When he looked up, recognition intensified the
flicker of life in his eyes.
She
needed no introduction. They always knew her, unmistakable in the
glimmering black filament gown, its folds revealing a glimpse into
infinity.
The
stilettos usually earned a second glance, the four-inch heels
glistening like fool’s gold. The butterfly tattoo spanning her
upper arm likewise drew curious looks, which inevitably changed to
horror when the souls recognized the face imprinted within that
colorful ink: their own.
About
the Author:
Cate
Masters has made beautiful central Pennsylvania her home, but she’ll
always be a Jersey girl at heart. When not spending time with her
dear hubby, she can be found in her lair, concocting a magical brew
of contemporary, historical, and fantasy/paranormal stories with her
cat Chairman Maiow and dog Lily as company. Look for her at
http://catemasters.blogspot.com, and in strange nooks and far-flung
corners of the web.
Cate
loves to hear from readers. Email her at: cate.masters@gmail.com
Cate
Masters - Magic, mayhem and a little romance
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