**This post contains Amazon affiliate links which will allow me as an associate to earn a small commision on any purchase made through the link of the products I share. This commission in no way changes the pricing of any items for the buyer.**
(Grave Talker, #5)
Publication date: February 22nd 2022
Genres: Adult, Urban Fantasy
Some secrets should stay buried.
After accidentally freeing a demon, ticking off the werewolf alpha, and possibly inciting a war, Darby Adler’s Warden job is in serious peril.
With the council up in arms and a literal god on her doorstep, Darby needs to figure her life out and pronto.
If she can’t, losing her job might be the least of her problems.
I was going to punch a god right in the face.
Sure, he was the actual God of Torment. Okay, so he probably didn’t deserve it. But I would sock him right in the mouth…
Just as soon as I got the nerve.
“Now, that’s just rude,” Deimos muttered, straightening the tie of his impossibly crisp suit as he stared me down. “I came here to have a civil discussion,” he tutted, as if I were a naughty puppy that had just piddled on his rug, “and all you can think of is violence.”
Yep. Definitely going to punch a god in the face.
It was one thing to come here—after the absolute catastrophe of the last twenty-four hours, I could get that—but to imply he was here for anything other than to beg my forgiveness for what his son had done to me, well…
“A civil discussion? A civil discussion?” The laugh that came out of my mouth made me sound cracked even to my own ears. “Maybe the reason all I want to do is hit something is because your son wormed his way inside my skull,” I seethed, roughly tapping my temple as I stepped forward, “and killed two people with my hands. Maybe it’s because he didn’t exactly ask permission first before he wore me like a skin suit while he got himself free. Maybe it’s because I have been violated beyond measure after losing half my damn family. Really, the possibilities are endless as to why violence is on the menu.”
Another unhinged giggle popped free of my mouth which had Deimos shuffling backward a pace or two.
“You freed my son—”
“I didn’t free shit,” I spat, following him down the steps and across the ribbon of pavement that bisected the front yard. “Did you miss the part where he wore me without consent? Add to that, Azrael locked me inside my own mind, so I couldn’t even shove your son out either. Oh, no. You aren’t pinning this shit on me.”
And if it was possible that I may have yelled that at a god while slowly stalking him across the grass, well then, so be it.
Annie Anderson is a military wife and United States Air Force veteran. Originally from Dallas, Texas, she is a southern girl at heart, but has lived all over the US and abroad. As soon as the military stops moving her family around, she’ll settle on a state, but for now she enjoys being a nomad with her husband, two daughters, an old man of a dog, and a young pup that makes life… interesting.