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

“You love me,” Justin said, and Kris said, “Yes, I’ve been saying it, haven’t you been hearing me, love, I love you,” and kissed him, as Justin’s laughing arms came up to tumble them both down into the bed.


They slept naked, tangled together. They woke the same way, sleep-rumpled and trading kisses. Kris awakened first—he suspected this would be a routine, and his heart performed somersaults: they had a routine—and left Justin enfolded in pillows and ran out to make coffee. Justin yawned and tried to kiss him when he got back, missed and landed on the corner of his mouth, and got scooped up for more kisses. Kris said, “I love you,” because he hadn’t said it yet that morning, and Justin emerged from the glittery London landmark mug to say it back. They traded grins.


While Justin woke up more, Kris had a thought. Found his own mobile. Fired off a text.


“You’ll find out later. Promise. Breakfast?”


Chapter 93