Paranormal Romance/Romantasy
Date Published: 02/06/2024
DEMONS DON’T DO LOVE…
Lust and lies? Now those, Jovi can handle.
But falling for a demon hunter like Nash Rogan?
Really dumb move for a succubus on the run.
ROGAN’S NO FOOL…
But he’s acting like one. Breaking rules, spilling secrets—touching
her.
He lives in the shadows. But the more Jovi lights him up, the less he wants
to go back to the dark.
Sparks fly when Jovi and Rogan are forced to flee—and fight—as
an unwilling duo in HOLY SMOKE, the first in the HELLBOUND series by Gin
Griffith.
EXCERPT
He was still annoyingly, mouthwateringly shirtless—he’d used his shirt to mop up all her blood when she’d been ripped to shreds, and now the filthy thing was tied around his hips, stiff and crumpled. Shadows danced over his flexing muscles. She wanted to lick him. She also kind of wanted to stab him again.
Stupid ass. She’d been scared shitless when he came charging toward her during that fight. Those giant vampire bats had been nicely distracted by her fire until he made himself a big, fat target. The sight of the enormous, fanged beast swooping behind him, ready to rip out his throat, had stopped her heart. And that freaked her out.
Demon killer.
Sure, he’d held her in his arms and snuggled her back to health after the spider shredded her. And he’d spilled his deepest, darkest secrets. And kissed her with intoxicating, delicious tenderness, like she was something precious. But none of that changed what he was. And it sure as shit didn’t change what she was.
Rogan finished with the tape and limped across the tunnel, easing to a seat against the opposite wall. He checked his weapons, blew dust off his cartridges, and bandaged his own wound. Even grimy, streaked with blood, and brooding, he still managed to look maddeningly sexy.
After several long, silent minutes, she glanced at his wounded leg. Okay, fine, maybe demons did do a little guilt. Sometimes. “Want me to take care of that?”
“No. Recover.” It was a terse command.
“Yes, sir,” she grumbled. Then, because she couldn’t help it, she asked, “Does your team call you sir?”
His eyes flitted to hers at the mention of his squad. He was probably pissed about all the shit she’d said a few minutes ago, but he just shook his head.
“What do they call you?”
“Rogan. Cyrus calls me Nash sometimes.”
“You don’t make them call you Captain or something?” Mommy Dearest insisted that her minions call her mistress. Her belly twisted at the thought.
“It’s not like that.”
When he didn’t elaborate, she raised a brow. “What is it like?”
He was quiet long enough that she thought he wasn’t going to answer. “Family.”
Something ached behind her ribcage, and it wasn’t her battle wounds. “What’s that like?” The words slipped out, and she instantly wished she could suck them back in. She cast a glance across the tunnel and found him watching her. Some of the hardness had evaporated from his gaze.
“Like we have each other’s back.”
She chewed her lip and nodded, pretending to be really interested in the laces of her boots. Her throat hurt.
“We live together, train together, fight together. And we eat together.”
She picked at the stains on her filthy shorts. “Sounds nice.” A thought occurred to her. “Do you ever have food fights?”
He blinked. “Food fights?”
“Yeah, you know, flinging potatoes and stuff across the table? Getting all messy?” She saw it in a movie Nora had shown her. Everyone was laughing and shrieking and ducking for cover, and not in a way that made her skin crawl. In a nice way. At least, she thought it looked nice. But Rogan’s brows were riding his hairline and his lips were twitching. She folded her arms. “Never mind.”
“I don’t believe we’ve ever had a food fight.” Across the cave tunnel, she could’ve sworn she saw a twinkle. “Sometimes, Cyrus uses his telekinesis to fuck with our dishes. And we all want to throw something at Wolf pretty much every meal.”
“You want to throw something?”
“At Wolf? Yes. Very much so.”
She didn’t know this Wolf, but he sounded like her kind of fun. She grinned, and Rogan’s lips curved in response.
About the Author
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