Reluctant Royals: Book One

Demons, Angels and Dead Things.

Abraxis never wanted to be King of Purgatory. As General of the Demon Horde and the middle triplet, he was content with his life of soldiering. But all that changed when someone started to wipe out the royal line of Cerberus. Now, filled with vengeance, Brax makes a choice that could prove to be the best or worst decision of his life. He hires the sinfully sexy Sabre to avenge his family and lay all the dead things at his feet.

Stolen as a child and trained in the most brutal assassin den in Purgatory, Sabre is the first angel in history to kill in cold blood. She is feared, despised, and respected in equal measure. And she likes it that way. So, when the hunky new king orders her to get a little stabby and forge a bloody path across the realm, she readily accepts. But as she uncovers a conspiracy going back decades, she also learns that emotions aren’t like limbs – they can’t be so easily severed.

When Brax’s demonic nature and Sabre’s angelic side collide, they discover that Purgatory can be both Heaven and Hell.

Here’s a little taste..

As soon as she walked into the room, the entire atmosphere became tense for a whole different reason other than the large number of supernaturals currently fighting, gambling, or having sex. It was because Sabre had a habit of spilling blood whenever she made an appearance at The Dungeon. She just couldn’t seem to help herself. The clientele was always so mouthy, and she always had a hard time ignoring their words. Besides, why would she bother to ignore them when it was simply easier to cut out a few tongues? On this particular occasion though, she vowed to herself to behave – despite her need for a good fight. She was there for one reason and one reason only; to stir some shit up on behalf of the king. Although, with her wingman in tow, she wasn’t sure if violence was going to be avoided, because if there was one thing the riffraff hated more than her, it was a goody-two-shoes angel.

“You’re not welcome here, angel-bitch,” a gravelly voice said from behind her.

Looking over her shoulder, Sabre saw that it was Ox. Ox was a troll – a very smelly troll – and the owner of the establishment. He was also scared of her, and she knew it. “Now, is that any way to talk about my new friend?” she asked sternly.

Ox’s beady eyes darted to Draven for a split second before returning to her. “I was talking to you.”

“Oh, my mistake. That’s what I call him, so I got confused for a second there,” Sabre explained.

Beside her, Draven huffed but remained silent. She really had no idea why he was intent on following her around. Sure, Brax had said he wanted Draven to help multiple times during their correspondence over the last few days. But he had also said he wanted to chat with Sabre in person again too. She had taken both statements with a grain of salt because both were just as ridiculous as each other. Yet, here she was, with a plus one. Did that mean the other wasn’t outside the realm of possibility too?

Shaking off the strangely appealing notion, she addressed Ox once more. “I just need two minutes, then I’ll be out of here. I won’t even break any bones or set anything on fire this time. Pinky swear …” Sabre held up her little finger, but Ox rudely ignored it, wordlessly snarling at her before retreating to a dark corner.

“Do you piss off everyone you meet?”

The sardonic question came from next to her and Sabre turned to Draven. “Most of the time,” Sabre admitted. “It’s a gift.”