Hurri Cosmo has a new MM paranormal/sci fi romance, book one of "Demon Rising Book One": "Roman - Demon Rising."
I belong to a Demon Lord. His name is Roman. He’s tall, strong, has long dark hair, a deep sexy voice and, let me tell you, absolutely f-ing gorgeous. Yep. I even wear his ring. Third finger, left hand.
Except – its’s not a wedding band. Far from it, actually. It simply means I’m his submissive.
Well – it doesn’t really mean that either, although I wish it did.
No. The ring’s function is only to give me “sight”. Being human, once I had it on, I could suddenly see Roman’s stupid lost legions; very nasty scary things that would as soon kill me as look at me. And because I wear the ring, guess what? It’s now my job to recapture all those creatures for him. Yay me, right?
At least I get to be close to Roman… sometimes.
But, to tell you the truth, I was tricked into putting this damn ring on by Cathy, some random woman I met at a park, who unfortunately likes Roman, too. A whole lot. She brazenly flirts with the demon every chance she gets and right in front of me, too. Crap, it pisses me off. In fact, she brags she was the one who found me, got the ring on me and then offered me up to Roman like I was a T-bone steak or something.
Well – honestly – that part’s okay.
However, there’s something else going on. Something big. Because there’s another gorgeous Demon Lord in our little earth realm and he will stop at nothing to capture Roman’s loose legions for himself. Not only that, seems he’s out to catch me, as well.
Huh. My name is Micah and things just got very interesting.
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“What? You’re kidding, right?” Micah fully turned to the woman. “This took place over seventy-five years ago. How is it this guy is still alive, not to mention that no one has ever heard this story? Or seen those monsters before now? How could he not unlock the doors? Why would there be a lock on those doors in the first place? A big hall like that? Cathy, none of this is making sense.”
She laughed bitterly. “Yeah, but what you’re seeing outside is? I’m telling you the truth.”
“Okay, you have a point, but what it seems to me you’re telling me is some made up concoction that covers upthe truth.” Her eyes narrow in anger. “But, let’s say I believe you. What does he have to do with this? What is this ‘passing on of the talent’ shit and that… that ring have to do with all of this?” They were interrupted again with a loud crashing sound. It was still outside but it was clear what they were trying to do. “Look, Cathy, kudos to your circle and all but I would feel a lot better if we were able to get away altogether from those… whatever they are out there. Somehow, we need to get back to my car. Any ideas?”
She glared at him, obviously hurt by, first, him not going all jelly and drama with her story and, then, with his distrust in her hastily poured salt circle. Then something clicked behind those big brown doe-like eyes. “Actually, there’s a tunnel. It goes back…” She seemed to stop to think. “Oh. To the park. It goes to the park. Well, I mean, it goes to the sewer system and you can get to the park by it.”
Micah did laugh this time. “A tunnel? For real? Dark and dank, just like in all those slasher movies? Man, I did not see that coming. Although I admit, I should have.” He laughed again.
“It’ll all make sense, I promise. There’s so much more to tell you.”
“Oh, believe me, none of this is ever going to make any sense. But don’t worry. I’ll still listen to your story as soon as we get away from here. I suppose the entrance to this tunnel is in the basement?” She sighed, then nodded. “Perfect. Just fucking perfect.” He rose to his feet just as the shuffling noises increased, this time the sounds of crackling wood joined in. He found himself questioning the intelligence of these demons. Wouldn’t it be far easier to come through a window instead of a wall? “Lead away.”
It was an old house. Old houses had scary, smelly basements. The stairs were always narrow and creaky and there was ever only that one naked light bulb hung on a thin wire that once you pulled on the chain to turn it on, it pushed out only enough light to define the deep shadows, not chase them away. It would also swing on that thin wire making those deep shadows move with a life of their own. Common sense told you it was nothing, your fiercely beating heart told you it was every ghost and goblin from your childhood come to steal your soul.
Cathy had grabbed a flashlight, an indication the basement itself was going to be their first challenge, and when they reached the bottom of the stairs, she turned it on. The shadows scattered like leaves before a storm. It felt almost powerful; like it released some kind of energy with its beam. He shook his head. The only powerful thing in this basement right now was his imagination. He stuck close behind Cathy as she moved haltingly toward a far wall. Micah gazed up at that wall trying to see a door or an opening, but he saw nothing. Possibly the tunnel was hidden and would only open to those who knew which brick to push. Maybe the wall itself was an illusion. You simply walked right through. Perhaps that wall was not where she was going.
It might even be she brought me down here to murder me and eat my beating heart.
Crap. Get a hold of yourself, you idiot.
She stopped in the middle of the floor and swung the light around as if looking for something.
Are you kidding me?
“You… you do know where this tunnel is, don’t you?”
“Well, not really. I’ve never used it. I only know it exists.” She swung the light back fast, again making the shadows dance. Micah had a feeling the shadows did not like to dance.
“Give me that thing.” He grabbed the flashlight from her and stepped in front, moving the beam of light slowly this time along the walls. There. Right there. Micah spotted an indent in the wall. He walked quickly over to it, trying hard to ignore the fact that several small, and maybe some not so small, animals skittered across the floor at his approach, the light and his eye just catching the movement, not the actual sight of any of them.
Oh man. This was sooo not good.
But the light did illuminate that indent in the wall and, hallelujah, yes indeed, this was a door. He handed the flashlight to Cathy and reached out to the recessed handle, sticking his hand into the ugly hole, feeling ancient spider webs bar his way. He swallowed hard but pushed through, grabbing the cold metal of the handle and twisted it. It screamed, metal against metal, but it turned, and he felt it release the door as the plunger inched back. Keeping a hold on the handle he pulled, but the door didn’t move. “Shit.” He knew on some level that was what would happen. He absolutely knew the door would be stuck and they would be trapped down here, like rats. The flesh-hungry zombies, dressed like school children, would lumber down the stairs and…
Just as he was about to finish that gruesome and bloody fantasy in his head, there was a crash upstairs.
Demons were in the house.
Roman – Demon Rising
Here is a side story with a couple of pictures at the end. It takes place right after the end of the main story but before the epilogue. Enjoy!
I gave you my heart, my whole self. But you left me in pieces.
Micah climbed out of his car in the Florida heat marveling that the smoking, clanking vehicle finally died right in front of a well-attended, seaside bar. Open to the water he had often dreamed about vacationing in just such a place, laying on the beach drinking margaritas and watching the sun set over the ocean. Well, in this case, come up over the ocean since he was facing east. But the margaritas would still be on the menu. And pizza. And chicken wings. And hamburger – wait – cheeseburger – and French fries. Crap. Anything right now. It had been two… maybe three days? Certainly a while since he had anything to eat.
But unfortunately, all those things cost money, of which, at this point anyway, he was clean out of.
Sighing and kicking a tire with little enthusiasm, he walked into the boisterous establishment thinking about a cool glass of water. That had to be free, right? Surprisingly there was an empty stool at the bar, and he took it, the old man bartending giving him an evil eye. His heart quickened as he stared at him. Could this be a legion? But then he remembered, he could no longer see them.
The old man walked over. “What you running from, kid?”
That surprised him. “What makes you think I’m running?” Was he running? Maybe. Okay, yeah. He was.
“That piece of crap car you rattled in with.”
Micah let out a nervous laugh. Damn. Guess the old man had seen the dilapidated thing. That was too bad. Micah had hoped he would be able to leave the car there for a few days unnoticed. At least until he could make enough money to move it. “Yeah. Unfortunately, it’s dead. I pushed it too hard evidently. Don’t worry. It’s out of the way.”
“You still need to get it the fuck out of my parking lot.”
Micah sighed. Yeah, he figured that. But the stupid mindless drive to this southern Florida beach had taken all the money he had. There simply wasn’t anything left. “I wish I could. But I’m broke.” He shrugged.
“Huh,” the man grunted looking him over. “You need a job?”
“Um… yeah.” That sounded way too hopeful.
“Ever been a bartender before?”
Shit. He wished he could say yes. “No. I haven’t.”
“Least ways you’re honest.” The old man pointed off to his left. “See that apron hanging by the office door?”
Yep. There it was. A blue apron with the words “Wet Deck”, the clever name of the bar, on the front. At least that’s what Micah thought it said. He could only see the letters “W” and “D” but the old man’s apron appeared to be the same. “Um… yes, sir.”
“None of that ‘sir’ shit in this place.” He nodded his head toward the apron. “Go put it on. I’ll show you how to pour beer.”
“You’re… giving me a job?”
“Yes. Unless you’re too fucking busy feeling sorry for yourself.”
Feeling sorry for himself? How…? “No, sir. I mean, no… mister.”
“Jim. Just call me Jim. Now scoot.”
Obeying someone always calmed him so Micah immediately rose from his stool. But a firm hand on his arm stopped him from going anywhere.
“Hang on, not so fast,” Jim gruffed. “When’s the last time you ate, son?”
“It’s… been awhile.” He smiled.
“Sit down. Can’t have you passing out on me.” Jim grabbed a menu and shoved it in Micah’s hands. “Here.”
“But… I can’t pay…”
“Fuck, son, I know that. I plan on working it out you. Now hurry up.”
Working it out of him, he did. For the next several months Micah learned how to tend bar. He also did any heavy lifting, of which there was a lot, and all the cleaning, which usually took him a good part of every night. But he was given three meals a day, lived in a tiny hut right there on the beach, and was allowed a small paycheck for incidentals. Even his crap car disappeared, Micah wasn’t sure when. Except an extra hundred snuck its way into his paycheck about a week after he noticed it was gone.
It wasn’t much of a life, but he found he was too busy to think most days and that was good. However, occasionally, deep in the night, when everything was finally quiet and there was just the sound of the ocean, Micah would lay in bed and think back to what he had left behind. He wondered where Roman was, if he was happy, if he ever thought of Micah at all. Those moments were hard and often brought him out to the beach to contemplate the endless, relentless waves.
So very much like the stupid-ass universe.
Move on, move on, move on.
So, Micah finally did.
Hi, my name is Hurri Cosmo and I am a happy ending junkie. I always have been. You can be pretty rest assured everything I write will have one. I am not big on angst. I believe we get enough of that in real life so when I go to read something, to make the real world go away for awhile, I will most likely not chose something that will make me cry.
So I write for those people who, at least occasionally, feel the same way. I’m okay with the fact I will probably never write anything “important” but I guess I will have to see where my imagination takes me. I would love it if you would come along.
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