Tempest Dawn, 2nd edition

The 2nd edition is finished! I can't believe it. It's been a few months in the making and I'm excited to finally be able to show you sneak peeks of the improved book.

The first edition was good, but this is better.

The updated version will go up on June 17, 2018! Mark your calendars. I'll be running some promos to give you all a chance to download the book for free.

In the meantime, here's a peek at the prologue.

Prologue
December 31st, at the stroke of midnight

Queen Ashtaroth lounged on a stone throne in the middle of a clearing, the buzzing of a portal humming behind her. She sighed, letting her head fall back, content with her accomplishments. All of her plans were going accordingly, and soon she would be able to rest and enjoy the fruits of San Francisco. She ran a lazy finger up and down the flat, black rock of the throne’s armrest, enjoying the smooth, polished surface beneath her fingertips.

Eyes lowered to look at the large slab on the ground before her. She could almost reach the edge of the monolith with her pedicured toes. The stone sparkled under the moonlight, looking like the night sky itself. Beautiful. General Barbas had done well. Relocating the stones took a lot of power, especially the heavy slab sitting at her feet. But the stones were essential to resurrecting the king.

Baal would rise once again. Regrettably, she would have to sacrifice eight of her generals. Their essence and their powerful blood was needed to feed the king, to give him the physical form he had lost so long ago.

Only four generals would remain; the strongest and most powerful. The Four would be unstoppable, ensuring their dominion—she would ensure it, tonight.

The Four served her well, offering her both counsel and arms whenever needed. In exchange, she let them into her bed where they continued to be her playthings. She giggled to herself, remembering the way each of the generals would take her—rough and rougher. The generals were hers to command; she was the one holding the powerful generals loyal to the king. It was her bidding they obeyed.

Essences neared, and there were plenty of them. She sat up in excitement, licking her lips as her heart beat faster against her chest. Giggling, almost trembling, excitement filled her with the rush of energy that would soon surge her system. She couldn’t decide which was more satisfying—essence or sex. It didn’t matter, for she could have as much as she wanted of both. She flourished in this realm; the golden city of San Francisco was full of stupid humans—an endless buffet feeding her every need.

Glimmering, crystalline essences drifted through the woods and hovered above the throne. “Yessss.” She arched her back in pleasure as the essences absorbed into her, expanding her, filling her, making her insides vibrate with pure ecstasy. If only the king were with her now. She could have the essences and his girth inside her at the same time. “Mmm,” she moaned reaching for her breasts to stress her pleasure as more of the essences melted into her.

A strong gust of wind whipped through the clearing, dissipating the fragile essences above. Bolting up, breasts exposed, nipples hard from her touch, she growled with menace. Sharp, blue eyes darted from left to right. Who would dare disturb her feeding?

The Four materialized. They were at full attention and ready for her to command. She eyed each male with scrutiny while the essences tickled her insides. Musky male scents tantalized her senses to a near frenzy. She could lash out and make them pay for interrupting but decided against it. She had summoned them, after all. Amused with her forgetfulness, she cackled, enjoying the essences’ fading pleasure.

Barbas led the Four. He was massive. Clad in black, leather armor made from a shadow beast’s impenetrable hide. Eyes, a solid black, and skin smooth like black marble. His presence was suffocating, a shadow lord of the highest esteem and her greatest advisor.

Corson led the Water Demons. In his true form, his features would be masked by rushing water which shaped his vessel. In size, he didn’t measure up to Barbas, but in strength, the water demon held the power of the oceans. Ashtaroth purred and let her eyes roam his human vessel—he’d picked a beautiful dark-haired male with dark green eyes, and a strong, chiseled jaw.

Dragoon, who led the Possessors, was a brute. He was merciless, favoring torture over a kill. Ashtaroth frequently had to quell his temper, lest he end his own horde. He was a fiery beast who darkly represented the name. Dragoon was no noble dragon, but a thug and a bastard who only responded to pain and fear.

Nero, the fourth general, led a group the earthen realm had not seen since the time angels walked the land. Ashtaroth shivered, a chill traveling up her spine as she studied the intimidating male. He was beautiful, god-like and darkly radiant in his glamoured form, but Ashtaroth knew underneath the mask of beauty was hideousness personified. Nero was a frightening demon who led the Asags—demons of the earth who had the power of the mountains to fortify their strength.

“My generalssss,” she greeted. “I want to present you with giftssss.” She pushed down on a hidden panel on the throne’s armrest and pulled out four medallions. Taking her time, she clasped them, studying the simple discs. She shivered, mind wandering to flashes of her previous ordeal—visions that seemed to come alive before her. She hissed, shaking off the images. The risks were worth it. The hordes needed more power. These would give it to them. She gave a furtive glance over her shoulder at the four males.

Was she taking a chance handing these over to the generals? No, this would ensure their loyalty to her.

The medallions vibrated in her hand. She swallowed as a bite of anxiety crept up her spine. Dark, powerful energy radiated through her as she thumbed the embossed marking of the top coin; the medallions were alive but disconnected from masters who could control the magick contained inside.

She held up a medallion, letting the moonlight catch it. “Do you know what this issss?” she asked, turning the medallion in her fingers. She leveled her gaze upon Barbas. “There were four otherssss who unleashed horror upon this earth. They were imprisoned eonssss ago.” Her heart raced, her fingers trembling as memories of her encounter with the Horsemen flooded her with fear.

Barbas, the wise one, grunted, understanding her meaning. His coal-like eyes glowing white as he seemed to expand where he stood. “My queen,” he snarled and thumped a fist to chest.

The others were antsy, their energies growing into a discordant frequency, making her irritable. “Patience. I promise this issss worth your time.” She steadied her hands and pushed up from the throne. Swallowing back her unease, she sauntered toward the waiting males. She stood in front of them, letting her loose silk slip fall off her body. She stood naked, running a finger in between her breasts. “Haven’t I alwayssss made your time worth it?” the Queen asked with a lilt in her voice.

Four pairs of eyes glowed white with lust, making her cackle with glee. She smiled, letting their worship evaporate whatever angst muddled her senses a second ago. Ashtaroth could see them tightening, their breathing becoming ragged as they stared at her. “Mmm… Yessss. There will be time for that.”

She walked to Barbas and palmed his strong chest. He felt hard as a rock. Her gaze slid down from his chest to his groin, smiling at the growing hardness in between his thick thighs. She looked up at him, liking the way his eyes were glowing as they bore into her. “For you, great General Barbassss, I besssstow the gift of war.”

He grunted, his chest puffing up beneath her hand.

“Hold out your left hand,” she ordered.

He extended his arm, his palm turned up, ready to receive his gift.

“With a mighty hand, you will wield the power of war. You will be an unbeatable soldier of desssstruction.” Ashtaroth pushed the medallion into his palm. His shadow-tinted skin seared with heat as the medallion embedded into his thick flesh. With his arm glowing red, he bellowed in pain into the dark night as he became one with his new gift.

The water demon shifted as he watched the shadow lord fall to a knee. He was next in line.

“General Corsssson, you will wield the hopelessness and fear that pestilence bringssss. The life-giving waterssss humanssss need will be a cesspool of diseasssse.”

The water demon bowed deeply, accepting his gift.

“Risssse my General and open your mouth.”

General Corson rose, his mouth opened wide, ready for the queen.

She delighted at the unquestioning obedience and placed the medallion on her tongue. She reached for the general’s head, locking him in a kiss. With her tongue, she pushed the medallion into his mouth.

He played with her offering, tickling the insides of her mouth with his nimble tongue, elevating her heightened desires before he swallowed the medallion.
She stepped back, licking her lips free of the metallic zing from the coin. She released the water demon, letting his body drop to the ground. Violent convulsions wracked his entire vessel turning the general a ghostly white.

Her eyes widened, waiting expectantly for the next reaction from the general. Corson quieted and pushed up from the ground, his movements stiff and measured before his handsome vessel returned to normal.

“Mmm.” The queen pressed her bare chest into his. She angled her head, snaring him in another kiss.

He grabbed an ass cheek squeezing hard and making her wince as he ground his center into her.

She would have fucked him right then, but two more gifts awaited. Reluctantly and out of breath she took a step toward Dragoon.

The third general was bristling with eagerness, his cheeks puffing out to accommodate the heavy respiration.

“Eassssy, Dragoon. Your gift comessss now.” She pouted, the gesture playful, making him grunt with excitement. “I give to you the gift of famine.”

Dragoon looked at her with question, his excitement waning.

“What issss wrong, dear general? Aren’t you happy with my gift?”

“You want me to starve the humans?”

“Yessss. Sssstarve the humans of everything that givessss them hope, faith, courage. You will deplete them of their physical sustenance, but also of their spirit. You will empty them, my dear Dragoon.”

Dragoon sneered, his evil oozing out at such a small gesture.

She cackled in delight as she stood back, enjoying the realization spreading through her general’s dimwitted mind. He wasn’t the smartest, but he had expertise that served her well. She rammed the medallion into the general’s muscular chest. The disc burrowed itself into his flesh, like a maggot burrowing itself into a carcass. Dragoon screamed a deathly howl as the medallion went deeper, becoming encapsulated within the well-honed muscle fibers of his vessel. The medallion activated, surrounding the General in a black cocoon.

Ashtaroth watched with wide, excited eyes as the cocoon shrank around Dragoon’s form, suffocating him. He struggled for breath, his meaty fingers frantic, trying to free the membrane wrapped tight around his face. She chuckled, amused at the struggling male in front of her.

He dropped on all fours, gasping for breath as the cocoon disappeared and the beautiful black tint faded from his skin. He grunted, slobber dripping from his gaping mouth. He tried to grab for her, but she pushed him away.

“Not now, Dragoon.” She turned from the still-gasping demon and stepped toward the Asag. “Nero, Prince among the Asagssss… You bring the final blow of death. If all else failssss, you will unleash what humanssss cannot escape—death.”

Looking straight ahead, he tipped up his chin and pounded his chest with a fist. He had no expression etched on his face, except for deathly calm. Even with all her years, she was but a child to someone like Nero. The Asag, wise with the experience of time, was the perfect bearer of the Horsemen’s most powerful gift.

“Hold out your hand.” She almost held the demon in reverence as she studied him, trying to penetrate the glamour that would reveal his true form.

Nero extended his arm, palm out, fingers held tight.

Ashtaroth placed the medallion in the middle of his palm. The coin shimmered in the large, rock-like hand before transforming into a long green scythe.

He gripped the aged but sturdy wooden handle of the weapon. “The Scythe of Death,” he rasped, voice sounding painful and dry. “Thank you, my queen.”

She acknowledged him with a shallow nod as she stepped away, turning to walk back to her throne. She could feel the heat of their stares. Her center warmed, readying her to take any of them into her body, even Dragoon. She sat down, the cold stone sending a delightful shudder through her skin. “It is done,” she exclaimed. She crossed her long legs, loving the way the generals held her in their gaze. She arched her back and squared her shoulders. Her breasts lifted. “The coins you took were filled with my blood.”

The Four eyed each other. Corson and Dragoon shifted.

She let a smile stretch her full lips, their nervousness delighting her. “You took the coins. Pledge your vows. Take a blood oath to your queen.” Malessss were so simple, she thought.

Each general straightened, chest out, shoulders back. “We vow fealty to the queen.”

She cackled, loving the rumble of their combined voices. “Duty calls, dear generals.” She breathed in, letting the scents of pine and brine fill her lungs. “Barbas prepare for our king’s rising. Ensure everything is ready.”

Without hesitation Barbas obeyed. His form wavering in the darkness until he disappeared completely.

She leaned forward, holding the water demon in her sight. “Corson send your demons back to the sea. They will be called when needed.”

Corson lifted his chin, a sexy smirk hooking the corner of his lip. He hesitated as if wanting to say something.

Ashtaroth narrowed her eyes. “General?”

The water demon bowed in response and disappeared quickly.

“What about us, my queen?” Dragoon grunted.

She snapped her gaze back at Dragoon. He was like a rabid dog on a leash, hungry to tear into flesh. “Dragoon, have your hordes sssscatter around the city. Go play.” She shooed him away with a playful flick of her wrist and studied Nero, the Asag. Older than Barbas and shrouded in more mystery and power, even he belonged to her now. “General Nero. Be my eyes in the city.”

The quiet male bowed, the movement slow and deliberate and he too disappeared to carry out her orders.

She let out a long breath as she slumped back in her throne. Baal would not understand what she had just done.

This was for her alone. And she needed to protect herself.

She needed to find herself a weapon.