Demon Seduction

Kaelythus the Corruptor was a demon of the ninth echelon. He was strong, formidable, one who had walked the world for almost two millennia—and he had a problem.

It wasn't that he'd been mugged on his way home, or that subsequent slip in self-control when he’d revealed himself in all his demonic glory and sent his would-be mugger running down the street. It wasn't that news of his disgrace seemed to be developing wings, spreading farther and faster than he could counter. It wasn't even that Kael was going to have to join forces with the infamous Hesoniel, a demon turned Redeemer, in a desperate bid to save himself before the Powers That Be judged him…retire-able. No. No, a clever demon could still come back from all that. Unfortunately for Kael, his biggest problem was who had seen him: his lovely, across-the-alley neighbor, Delilah.

The name alone should have told him something…

Note: This is an erotic romance with coarse language and sexual situations (because really, what kind of erotica or romance would it be without them).

Word Length: 19,300 (56 printed pages)

Excerpt:

Kaelythus the Corruptor stood in the middle of the alley between 32nd and Shiloh Avenue, a bag of groceries balanced in the crook of his arm, thoroughly annoyed. Once upon a time, in the follies of his youth (and he was not so old and stagnant that he could not remember it), the sight of switchblade knives and back alley muggings had held the power to brighten his mood. Up until tonight, however, he’d never found himself staring down the length of said knife—the sharpened steel catching the light of a passing car at the alley’s entrance—nor had he ever been mugged before. Try as he might, he just could not summon up that old familiar sense of wonder and joy. All he felt was the cold spot on his chest where his Hot Pockets were pressed up against him. Thawing.

The young man beckoned, both with the knife and his empty hand. “Wallet. Right now.”

Frowning, Kael did his best not to grind his teeth in aggravation. He wanted to go home. He wanted his supper. He wanted a drink, maybe two, and he wanted to go to bed.

“Boy,” he growled. “You know not what you do.”

“Buddy.” The young man moved closer, gripping and re-gripping his knife. “I will cut you. Don’t fucking push me.”

Oh, for those bygone days when such menacingly offered sentiments could put a bounce in his step and a smile on his face. Kael’s frown deepened. He was not only unimpressed, he was about as far from smiling as a demon from the ninth echelon could get. Maybe Feturu was right. Maybe he was becoming…fry-able.

“Wallet,” the boy said again, clearly running out of patience.

Well, so was Kael.

Shifting his groceries to his other arm, he reached into his coat pocket as if in retrieval of his money, not that he withdrew any. In a puff of sulfurous foulness, he showed himself instead. Not the staid human disguise that he’d been forced to adopt all those centuries ago when first the choice had been made to send him here. No, the form he revealed now was his true and massive self—his muscle, his horns, the bony spurs that lined his shoulders, chest and back. He showed the fire and the midnight black of his eyes, and by the time he got around to showing the fine points of his teeth, there wasn’t any further need. His would-be mugger had already high-tailed it halfway down the alley and showed no signs of stopping any time soon. Screaming like a small female child, he might add. And not only had he dropped his knife but, by the smell of it, he’d also wet himself.