Statistician
Riona Dade knows all about probabilities. Still, even she'd tell you
the chances of discovering you’re a witch, being appointed to the
demon-slaying trio known as the Pure Souls, and finding yourself
sinfully attracted to a catholic priest who uses amen and other
four-lettered words with equal enthusiasm are pretty slim. Also
learning your ex was once Hell’s first-round draft pick, and
realizing you're a prize catch for Satan’s soul-damning quota
leaves a girl feeling like she just won the lottery while being
struck by lightning while riding a unicorn across Atlantis.
Trying to keep her mind off role playing the Thornbirds with Father Angeletti, Riona leads the Pure Souls against a maniacal menagerie of Mephistopheles’s minions plaguing greater Boston. Giving in to lust is a direct flight to damnation for both her and the priest, leading Riona to distract herself by striking up a romance with her new, foxy neighbor, Lucy. But she can't shake her attraction to Marcello, and as the tension between them grows thicker than a lumberjack’s beard, temptation may become too difficult to resist.
How long can they deny the pull growing between them, knowing there will be Hell to pay?
Trying to keep her mind off role playing the Thornbirds with Father Angeletti, Riona leads the Pure Souls against a maniacal menagerie of Mephistopheles’s minions plaguing greater Boston. Giving in to lust is a direct flight to damnation for both her and the priest, leading Riona to distract herself by striking up a romance with her new, foxy neighbor, Lucy. But she can't shake her attraction to Marcello, and as the tension between them grows thicker than a lumberjack’s beard, temptation may become too difficult to resist.
How long can they deny the pull growing between them, knowing there will be Hell to pay?
AMAZON US
Author Bio:
Killian
McRae would tell you that she is a rather boring lass, an authoress
whose characters’ lives are so much more exciting than her own. She
would be right. Sadly, this sarcastic lexophile leads a rather
mundane existence in the San Francisco Bay Area. She once dreamed of
being the female Indiana Jones, and to that end she earned a degree
in Middle Eastern History from the University of Michigan. However,
when she learned that real archaeologist spend more time lovingly
removing dust with toothbrushes from shards of pottery than
outrunning intriguing villains with exotic accents, she decided to
become a writer instead. She writes across many genres, including
science fiction, fantasy, romance, and historical fiction.
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EXCERPT
As
Dee sauntered away, Riona focused on the priest’s expression. He
wasn’t in his collar and coat today, but always carried the air of
the clergyman within to some degree, like he wore his collar on the
inside.
“How
did you end up here?”
She
took in the rugged cut of his jaw, the stubble that showed he hadn’t
shaved in a day or two. He wasn’t bad looking by any measure, and
he probably could have been quite the heartbreaker if he wasn’t a
man of God. His eyes weren’t brown, they were black, and glistened
like onyx pendants. A firm jaw and supple lips were likely often
employed more for battling the fires of Hell than fanning the flames
of lust. Nevertheless, the tools were there to be used, if he so
desired. For a man of the cloth, he sure cut that cloth fine.
The priest rose to what she considered the perfect height, had a body
not too muscular, but hardly milk toasty, and a swagger in his walk
that would make a lady think he could move his body in all the ways
the good Lord intended.
If
only his collar and his personality weren’t pressed with double
starch.
“Paolo’s
is the best pizza in town. Trust me on that, I’m Italian.”
Sarcasm wasn’t his most attractive trait, but it was one of the
most prominent.
“Don’t
deflect the question,” Riona commanded with a click of her tongue.
“I mean being one of the Pure Souls. I know how you found me…”
“… secured
in a straitjacket and pending shipment to a cushy psychiatric
facility?”
She
crossed her arms and grimaced, wondering suddenly if the hex she’d
learned to give demons jock itch would work on humans.
“Look, you walk
through the steel wall of a meat locker and try to explain it to the
police in a way that doesn’t get you 5150’ed, and then you can
talk. But, I mean, a priest?
Isn’t the Catholic Church, you know, kind of not kosher with the
whole magical powers and battling goblins thing?”
“Technically,
the Catholic Church isn’t kosher with
anything,” he returned. “Kosher’s a Jewish thing, not that I
think the people of the book are anymore approving of mortal combat
with the spawn of Hell. I was born into it. Magic is a birthright,
you know. It shows up in my family every couple of generations. Just
like being a priest - like my father before me, and his father before
him.”
Thanks so much for joining the tour and hosting this stop yesterday!
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