SynopsisHere's the "book jacket" synopsis:
Shades of Grey is book three in multi-book series about an organization of Vampyre warriors (yeah, I know) in a war with the Daemon Lords (fallen angels) and their demon minions. In Book Three, Charles, the most controversial of the Syx comes to terms with his own demons when one of the Syx falls ill to an illness without symptoms or an apparent cure. As Andyall lays dying, Charles seeks out a human Witch on the chance she might be able to uncover the reason behind his comrade's illness. At the same time, he is forced to come to terms with his own struggles with emotion, his past bargains with a devil he never really knew, and his sudden attraction to the human Witch, Jesse. As the war rages around them and comes to roost on Jesse's doorstep, Charles is forced to violate all rules of Vampyre law, risk his place among The Syx, and come to terms with the secrets Jesse keeps about herself.
In short, it's a novel about a sociopathic Vampyre who falls in love with a human Witch in the midst of a war against demons. Oh yeah, and she has a secret that will rock him to his core! It's lots of fun to write, and I hope, lots of fun to read.
ExcerptJesse stared at the dark stranger in budding dread. He was easily over six feet tall and he carried with him an air of danger that made her acutely aware that this man wasn’t your average man, but something darker and more predatory. He was absolutely striking, almost feminine in his beauty, with a strong jaw, aquiline nose, and eyes so light she wondered vaguely if he had any pigment at all in them. He grew his…Holy shit, she thought. Is his hair really Cookie Monster blue? To make it worse, it actually accentuated his high cheekbones and enhanced his attractiveness. Was that even possible? He wore tailored black from his heavy trench coat, to his fitted long-sleeved black shirt and black cargo pants. His boots were heavy shit-kickers she felt would more than adequately do the job, and she knew the heavy sway of his coat was more to do with a personal arsenal than the sturdy leather. She tried to force her breathing to remain steady, desperately trying to find something redeeming in the figure before her, but his blank stare was more horrifying than if he had come in with loaded guns trying to rob her.
“I don’t keep much in my drawer,” she said, slowly moving back towards the register where she kept a two-by-three of hickory in case of emergencies.
“I’m not here to rob you.”
Jesse swallowed, glanced over at the front door. The lock remained in place. How had he gotten in? Had he been in earlier, when she and Margie were in the storeroom and he had hidden himself somehow? But how? It wasn’t exactly if someone his size who looked like the Smurf equivalent of Rambo wasn’t immediately noticeable in a small space. His lips curled upwards at the corner as if he could read her thoughts.
“Why…why are you here then?” She asked, hating that she was stuttering, but she was terrified.
In her experience, men could do worse than rob the local pagan shop.
He cocked his head as if he was going to ask her a question, but the glimmer of curiosity disappeared as quickly as it had come.
“I told you, I came here for answers.”