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

He knew that, and Justin knew, and he knew that Justin knew. He couldn’t not wish that he could turn back time and unlearn that suspicion; he thought that, given time, he’d do better. He swore he would.


“You already are.” Justin licked lips, head on one side, hair rippling. Sensuous. Lapidary. That heritage. That open flame, the scents of autumn and heated skin, a throb of decadent smoke and spice. “You’re trying. That matters.”


“We’ll have time.” Fire and crimson and black pupils, in that gaze. Less human, more a succubus’s child. But completely Justin, in the compassion and passion of the reply. “You’ve thought so. And we will.”


Chapter 97