Kris Starr used to be famous. Rock and roll. Sold-out shows. Literal magic. Empathic talents and screaming fans. But he has a problem or two. He's having a hard time writing new music. It’s Midwinter, which means he’s surrounded by depressing holiday cheer. And he's in love with Justin, his manager, who has a talent for rescuing almost- or once-famous bands ... and who’s hiding secrets of his own. Justin Moore, on the other hand, is very good at keeping those secrets -- he's had to be for years. One secret involves a demonic inheritance that would make him a target of suspicion. Another involves his past. And the third involves Justin’s feelings for Kris Starr, rock and roll icon and now his client ... and a powerful empath of his own.

A Demon for Midwinter

Justin, tucked under his arm and licking ice cream off the spoon, glanced at the television, and then upat him. And smiled.


And Kris thought about reshaped lives, about choices, about roads taken and not taken. About ending up here and now. About families and rock shows and exhilaration in the screams of a thousand fans, and the way Justin’s hair brushed his cheek when leaning closer, warm and weightless as phoenix-feathers.


Justin smiled more and finished off the defenseless ice cream. Kris’s heart got bigger, billowing, gauzy, full of gold.


When the movie finished Justin started to say something, yawned, and waved at the bowl, which went away someplace, no doubt to clean itself of its own volition. Justin yawned again, adorable and kittenish, and Kris suggested, “Bed?” while giving in to the impulse to stroke a hand over that hair. It licked merrily at his fingers.


Chapter 55