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. . .it ripped in his hands, the sound of tearing fabric drowned out by a wail of anger and pain. It pierced her ears, making her pull back. Prince jerked the red cloth from her, tendrils of it latching onto her arms, her legs, her waist. It dug in, gripping her skin with what felt like tiny, prickly insect legs.
“Ow! What the hell are you doing?”
Prince yanked harder on the cloth. “This damned cape is trying to kill you! It is from the Devil In Iron himself, the one you were brought back to the Shining Kingdom to stop!”
Inch by inch the fabric pulled away from her skin. It hurt. Not just the tearing but the sheer loss of the cape, of its warmth, of its comfort, of its protection. Prince was wrong!
“Stop! Stop it! You’re tearing my soul away.”
“No Princess, you are seduced by the cursed thing. It is stealing your Essence!” The shining warrior pulled harder, muscles bulging, pink mohawk swaying.
Panic clawed at her. “It feels like a part of me that you’re ripping away.”
The last of red fabric tore from her hand, taking a small scrap of her skin with it. Her mind cleared like a fog burned away by the sun. She looked and saw Prince wrestling with the cape that now attacked him. It wasn’t a wool at all, it was the living pelt of a horrendous creature, a demon-skin covered in long, blood-red hair, and lined with a blackened chitin made of horn. It lashed at Prince, tearing at him, wrapping his arms and climbing to cover his face. She saw his one eye, wide and panic stricken, disappear under the skin.
He fell to the ground, thrashing the dirt, no way to breathe.
No! Not Prince, he’d saved her!
She had to do something.
She stepped forward, lifted her hands, and . . .
I am the author of the Deacon Chalk: Occult Bounty Hunter series. Book one, BLOOD AND BULLETS, will be out from Kensington Publishing February 7, 2012.
I write DARK URBAN FANTASY. It is gritty, it is violent, it is bloody, it is DARK. The monsters are monstrous and they do Very Bad Things. The good guys are Big Damn Heroes. I write the ultimate thrill ride in the form of a book, just for you. I want you turning those pages as fast as you can while precariously balanced on the edge of your seat.