Daemon
Persuasion
Daemon
Persuasion Series
Book
1
S.
K. Gregory
Genre:
Urban Fantasy
Publisher:
Mockingbird Lane Press and SKGregory.
Date
of Publication: Jan 2013
ISBN:
978-0985690632
ASIN:
B00DRAX2P0
Number
of pages: 222 pages
Word
Count: 46k
Cover
Artist: Jamie Johnson
Book
Description:
When
Mackenzie Murphy goes looking for her father she finds herself caught
in the middle of a demon war between three rival families. Still
trying to master her own demon abilities, who can she trust to help
her? The mysterious Lucien? Or Taryn, the son of the enemy? With all
three families hunting for a talisman that could shift the balance of
power, Mackenzie must get to it first and finish what her father
started, or die trying.
Daemon
Persuasion Excerpt:
Chapter
1
Ten
Years Later
Mackenzie
prowled the backstreets of downtown Los Angeles searching for her
mark.
Johnny
Beckman was the name her boss had given her, but he usually went by
Ace, because he always seemed to be able to pull one out of his
sleeve when the stakes were high. Unfortunately, his luck had taken a
turn for the worse lately and he owed her boss over ten grand. Money
that Mackenzie was going to collect.
She
had spent most of the night talking to people, trying to track him
down. Rumor had it that he liked to hang out in a bar called Pot
Luck.
The
club closed at two, so she loitered outside waiting for Johnny. She
stood against a wall trying to look casual, staring at the reflection
of the neon green Pot Luck sign in a nearby puddle.
“Hey
there sweetness, why don’t we go back to my place?” A bald drunk
leered at her as he left the club. He tried to cop a feel, but before
he could touch her she grabbed his wrist and twisted it up his back.
He cried out, trying to wrench his arm away.
“Keep
your hands to yourself,” she said. She let go of his wrist and he
hurried away, calling her a few choice names as he went. Nothing she
hadn’t heard before. She had fended off more than a few unwanted
admirers in her line of work. At five foot ten, she towered over a
few them, and that intimidated them.
Although
some of them looked past that to the curly black hair, green eyes and
a body with curves in all the right places.
A
half hour later, Johnny finally staggered out. He was shorter than
her by three inches. Dressed in a sports jacket which he wore over a
checked shirt, he bumped into one of the bouncers at the door. He was
loaded.
“Watch
it,” the bouncer growled.
“Drop
dead,” Johnny muttered, not loud enough for the bouncer to hear,
but she heard it. She kept her distance until he was away from the
club. The stench of urine in the alleyway was overpowering. Breathing
through her mouth, she crept along behind him. There was little
light, so Johnny wouldn’t see her until she was right up on him.
She passed a pile
of blankets tucked between two trash cans. Pausing, she checked to
make sure they were empty. She didn’t need some homeless person as
a witness.
Johnny
stopped to light a cigarette and Mackenzie closed the distance
between them.
“Hey,
Johnny, how’s your luck been?” she said, in a friendly tone.
He
turned around, the lit match still in his hand. Weariness lined his
pudgy face. Running a hand through his greasy black hair, he eyed her
through small, bleary dark eyes. He reminded her of a pig. And not
the cute one from the film.
“Who’s
asking?” His tone was guarded but his body was relaxed. He didn’t
view her as a threat and she found that insulting.
“Mr.
Clayton is wondering about his money,” she replied.
That
got a reaction. She didn’t relax her stance. Things could turn ugly
in a moment’s notice and as they said in her kickboxing class,
‘Never let your guard down.’
“You
tell Clayton that if he doesn’t have the decency to send his
heavies for the money, then he can wait for it. Seriously, how old
are you, sweetheart?” He was right up in her face now and she could
smell his stinking breath.
Ever
since she’d been a kid, she hated when people invaded her personal
space. It made her edgy and more than ready to do whatever she needed
to get them to back off.
“Old
enough to do this,” she said. She brought her knee up into his
groin. He let out a muffled grunt of pain as he doubled over.
Grabbing the back of his head, she slammed her knee into his
forehead. He cried out again and fell to the ground, clutching his
b***** and head simultaneously.
“Mr.
Clayton wants his money by midnight tomorrow or…” she left the
sentence unfinished. Leaning over him, she checked his pockets and
found over a grand tucked away. He was still earning his nickname.
“I’ll
take this as a down payment.”
Eager
to get out of the alleyway and away from the stench, she turned away.
“You
f****** c***,” Johnny yelled. He shoved her hard from behind and
she fell to her knees. Something wet soaked through the left leg of
her jeans. I really hope that’s rain water. From behind her she
heard the distinct click of a blade.
“That
was a big mistake,” he said, pointing it at her, “How about I
send Clayton a message in the form of your dead body.”
“A
little help here,” Mackenzie said. She whispered a few words in
Latin.
The
streetlight above them blinked out, as Mackenzie climbed to her feet.
A
cold wind swirled around them. A trashcan tipped over, spilling its
contents over the ground. The smell of rotting food filled the air.
“What
the hell is going on?” Johnny said, his eyes wild with fear. He
backed away from her, his eyes darting back and forth. The knife
flicked out of his hand and bounced away.
Mackenzie
saw the Shadow move in behind Johnny, flipping him off his feet. He
hit the ground, smacking his chin on the concrete.
As
the Shadow moved over him, she knew what was coming next.
“Subsitso,”
Mackenzie barked. The Shadow halted, poised in anticipation, waiting
for further instructions.
She
looked at Johnny whimpering on the ground, “Excedo,” she
commanded.
The
Shadow sank slowly into the ground and disappeared.
“Get
the money Johnny,” she said.
Breathing
hard, she walked away, angry that Johnny had gotten the jump on her.
She hated having to call the Shadow for help when she was perfectly
capable of taking care of herself.
It
had appeared a few times over the last ten years, especially as she
had a knack for getting into trouble. At first, she had been
terrified and convinced she was going crazy. When it appeared, it
would whisper to her in Latin. Once she figured out it was Latin, she
memorized a few simple commands, which it seemed to prefer to
English.
Constantly
moving as a child meant she never had anyone to confide in about the
strange and sometimes scary phenomenon. She had tried telling Suzie
in the children’s home about it, but that had been a mistake. Suzie
had laughed in her face and shoved her down, calling her a nut job.
Unwittingly, Mackenzie had summoned the Shadow and Suzie ended up in
the hospital with stitches in her head. This Shadow thing craved
violence and Mackenzie knew it would have loved to have killed
Johnny, but it followed her orders without question. At least so far.
Over the years, it had become a kind of guardian for her, but
considering the outcome of its last visit, that night with Ramone,
she had sworn she would never call for it again. Calling it was a
mistake, but sometimes she did it without thinking.
Still,
she had what she came for. As she left the alley, she felt a
prickling sensation on the back of her neck as if she was being
watched. She stopped, searching the area, but saw nothing. There were
shouts in the distance, more drunks no doubt. Crossing the street,
she glanced over her shoulder.
There
was definitely someone watching her. She looked up and found him,
standing on a fire escape on the building opposite. He was tall,
wearing a long coat, which flapped around him in the wind, but that
was about all she could see. She couldn’t see his face but she knew
he was staring right at her. Something about the man sent chills down
her spine. She turned and hurried away. She’d had enough surprises
for one night.
Blue Moon was the
club Mr. Clayton owned. Its usual cliental consisted of the dregs of
society or out-of-towners who didn’t know about its reputation.
They played mostly dance music, which personally Mackenzie hated, but
she had learned to drown it out over the last couple of years. She
let herself in the back door hoping to leave the money and go, but a
few people were still up, including Clayton.
“Johnny
sent you a little present, Mr. Clayton,” Mackenzie said, dropping
the money on the table in front of a blonde woman in her late
forties. Two bodyguards stood on either side of her.
Her
ice blue eyes gave nothing away. She was dressed in a simple blue
calf length dress, but Mackenzie was sure the woman could make sack
cloth look classy.
“You
gave him my message?” Mr. Clayton asked.
“Yes,
he’ll pay,” Mackenzie, replied.
“He’d
better,” the woman replied. Mr. Clayton was in fact Greta Clayton.
She had taken over from her husband after he was shot two years ago.
Even though he was dead, his name still meant something among the
locals. Since he was rarely seen, Greta kept up the pretense that he
was still alive. Mackenzie knew that if the locals knew a woman ran
the show, there would be chaos.
Mackenzie
worked odd jobs for her, usually bartending and deliveries but more
recently ‘collections.’ Greta had seen her take down a couple of
drunks a few weeks earlier and decided that she was worth promoting.
She didn’t argue when her promotion came, especially since it
tripled her salary.
“Any
trouble?” Greta asked, counting the money.
“Nothing
I couldn’t handle,” she replied.
Greta
smiled, transforming her face, “Good girl. Your payment will be
ready in the morning.”
Mackenzie
never asked, but Greta had a presence about her. Mackenzie often
wondered if she had been an actress back in the day. It seemed every
young girl who came here wanted to be one. A few lucky ones got their
big break. A lot more got swallowed by the city. The appeal of acting
was lost on her. It was hard enough making ends meet.
Mackenzie
left the way she came in. In the ally, she climbed onto her
motorbike. Some people said that in a city this size you needed a
car, but she preferred her Ducati. Back tire squealing, she headed
home.
As
she drove over the crest of a hill, someone stepped into the road.
She slowed slightly, wondering what someone would be doing out this
late, on such a deserted stretch of road.
Flames
erupted in front of her. Mackenzie braked hard, jerking the bike to
the left. A wave of heat hit her. The bike went out from under her,
straight over the cliff edge. She skidded on her back a few feet and
came to a stop inches from the flames. Heat tinged her face like a
lover’s kiss.
Unable
to catch her breath, she lay motionless. A man stepped through the
flames, unaffected by the heat. He loomed over her, face hidden in
shadow. Could this be the same guy from the roof? He was about the
same size. Her heart jack-hammered in her chest, leaving her
breathless. A medallion in the shape of an eagle hung around his
neck.
“Consider
this a warning,” he hissed, “Stop messing with things you don’t
understand.”
Without
another word, he turned and disappeared into the flames, leaving her
speechless and suddenly very afraid.
Mackenzie
struggled into a sitting position, the flames dying around her. Her
back burned and she was sure her leather jacket was a write off, as
was her motorbike. She wasn’t sure what had just happened, but
somehow knew, this wasn’t the end.
The
man was gone. He had vanished into the flames as though he’d never
existed.
Son
of a b****.
Apparently,
Johnny was better connected than she thought. Or someone was. Greta
had a lot of enemies and since no one could get near her, it made
sense they would go after her employees.
Checking
herself over, she was relieved to find that she wasn’t badly hurt,
just a few scrapes and bruises. She started the long walk home,
already plotting her revenge.
Daemon
Madness
Daemon
Persuasion Series
Book
2
S.
K. Gregory
Genre:
Fantasy/Supernatural
Publisher:
Mockingbird Lane Press
Date
of Publication: Oct 26th 2015
ISBN:
978-1944169220
Number
of pages: 206
Word
Count: 46,000
Cover
Artist: Jamie Johnson
Book
Description:
Mackenzie
Murphy thought her demon troubles were behind her, but with Taryn as
her new roommate and his father still out to kill him, it seems
there's no getting away from them.
When
Taryn begins to act erratically, Mackenzie discovers that he has to
face the consequences for saving her life. Deadly consequences.
So
it's up to Mackenzie to save him, while avoiding the attention of a
local cop and her homicidal boss.
Maybe
demons are the least of her worries.
Daemon
Madness Excerpt:
Chapter
One
Walking
as silently as he could through the St. Patrick’s church, Taryn
watched for any movement. He had an iron-bladed knife in one hand and
a small glass vial in the other.
He
scanned the ceiling of the church. A fluttering noise in the rafters
caught his attention. Illuminating the pews, light streamed through
the stained-glass window, but the ceiling remained in shadow. He knew
it was there though. He could feel it watching him.
As
he turned, he saw it—a leg suspended between the wall and the
ceiling. As he moved toward it, Taryn heard its ragged breathing and
as he got closer, it growled softly. “You know how this ends,
Bartlus. Let’s stop playing games.”
Taryn
threw himself forward as the demon launched itself toward him. Taryn
hit the floor and the demon overshot, landing hard on the wood floor
and came instantly to its feet. Taryn spun to face it.
Mackenzie
Murphy’s face stared back at him. Her full lips twisted into a
sneer; her normally green eyes black. Ropey salvia oozed from her
mouth onto the floor. She hunkered down, preparing to pounce, looking
more like an animal than a person.
“One
way or another you are going back in this bottle,” Taryn said.
“You
won’t hurt this body,” Bartlus said in its guttural voice.
“Don’t
be so sure,” he lied.
Bartlus
grinned at him, the expression turning Taryn’s insides to water. He
had to remain in control. If the demon realized he had one second’s
doubt as to whether he could actually kill the demon that had
possessed Mackenzie, it would all be over.
“I
can see her thoughts.” It tapped the side of Mackenzie’s head.
“Her memories. You killed your own kin to save her. She’s still
in here, screaming to get out.”
“You’re
not leaving this church.”
As
it leapt at him, it knocked him sprawling. Taryn flipped over,
pinning Mackenzie’s body underneath him.
“Is
this what you want?” It asked, “Do you fantasize about this?”
It wriggled suggestively.
Taryn
held it down by the throat and chanting the old incantation in Latin
put the vial under its nose. It screamed, bringing Mackenzie’s knee
up and connecting with his groin. Taryn groaned and loosened his grip
as pain ripped through him.
Bartlus
took the opportunity to get free. He pushed Taryn over and made a run
for it.
Taryn
tossed the knife. It struck the altar, and Bartlus skidded to a halt.
The knife had missed by inches. Bartlus spun in the opposite
direction, and Taryn teleported in behind and flipped the demon onto
the floor. This time he made sure to pin all of Mackenzie’s limbs.
As
he finished the chant, black, oozing smoke poured out of her mouth
and nose into the vial. When it was filled, Taryn sealed it.
Mackenzie
choked and sputtered.
“You
okay?” Taryn asked, sliding off her and onto the floor.
“What
the hell was that?” she moaned.
“Possessor
demon. I warned you not to touch anything.”
“Well,
the bottle didn’t exactly come with a warning label, ‘May cause
possession when opened,’” she snapped.
Taryn
sighed. She was such a pain in the ass.
“Is
it gone?” Father Jared asked as he crawled from under the pew where
he had been hiding. He sweated profusely, his dark hair plastered to
his head.
“It’s
back in the bottle.” Taryn tossed it to him.
Father
Jared fumbled it, his thin face losing even more color, leaving him
looking like a ghost, but he got a grip and held on as though his
life depended on it—which it did.
Taryn
knew Father Jared had only just joined the church and was still
learning about demons. He had a long way to go. What was the man
thinking? Leaving the bottle unguarded!
“I’ll
lock this away,” Father Jared said, holding it at arm’s length.
“Father Thomas will be back this evening. You can come and talk to
him then. Alone.”
“Good
idea,” Taryn muttered.
Mackenzie
glared at Taryn as she picked herself off the floor.
“I
didn’t let the demon in on purpose,” she said.
“I
know. Let’s just forget it, okay?”
He
didn’t want to fight; he was in too much pain. They walked down the
aisle to the door.
“So
what do possessor demons do? Other than body-jack you?” Mackenzie
asked.
“Not
much. They’re demons who have had their forms taken from them.”
“Can
they possess dead bodies?”
“Only
the recently dead. They can keep bodily functions going temporarily
but not for long. Once the body expires they return to their vessel.
In this case, the bottle. They need living hosts.”
Mackenzie
shivered and pulled a face, “Let’s go home. I need a bath after
that.”
Taryn
frowned. She said it so casually. Home. He had only been staying at
her apartment for a few weeks, sleeping on the couch. Just because
his father had a contract out on him didn’t mean it was permanent.
He didn’t intend to stay much longer. It wasn’t like she got
anything out of the arrangement anyway, other than picking up a few
fighting techniques and learning about demon lore. Once he found a
base somewhere he was leaving.
As
they made their way down the front steps of the church, Taryn saw
him. He froze. Across the street by a bus stop, he had caught a
glimpse of Lucien. A car passed, blocking Taryn’s view, and by the
time it car moved away, his brother, Lucien had vanished. Taryn
scanned the street, but it was as though Lucian never been there.
“What’s
wrong?” Mackenzie asked.
He
shook his head, “Nothing.” He must have imagined seeing his
brother. It had been weeks since Lucien died. If he hadn’t appeared
by now, then he wasn’t going to, was he?
Daemon
Battle Book 3 will be available to pre-order July 2
To
Be Released in September 2016.
About
the Author:
S.
K. Gregory was born in Northern Ireland in 1985. She is the author of
several series of books including the Daemon Persuasion series, which
was published by Mockingbird Lane Press. Her latest novel is Hell
Hath No Fury: Queen of Hell Book 1.
She
loves horror movies, reading and archery. When she isn’t writing,
she helps authors through her website by supplying reviews and
promotion. All of her works are available to purchase through Amazon.
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