Baby-daddy drama goes to Hell: Air & Darkness (The Dae Diaries) Urban Fantasy Romance by AK Nevermore Book Tour with Giveaway

 

 

 Baby-daddy drama goes to Hell  

Air & Darkness

The Dae Diaries Book 2

by AK Nevermore

Genre: Urban Fantasy Romance

 After nine months of relative peace and now fully dae, Envy is four days past her due date and beyond ready for the damned kid to move out and get a job.

But when the warden for the wild hunt shows up with an offer she can’t refuse—well, not without plunging the planet into chaos—her impending motherhood takes a back seat.

Then incriminating photos surface, throwing her baby daddy's fidelity into question. In the midst of the ensuing drama, he disappears, forcing Envy to make a choice. Will she stand by him, or cozy back up to the man who held her heart way back in Biblical times?

Get ready, because when the truth comes out, even Hell will feel the fury of a goddess scorned.

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Flame & Shadow

The Dae Diaries Book 1 

 Half-daemon Envy Starr is destined to die on Midsummer’s Eve, still a virgin, on some crappy cult’s live-stream feed. With thirty days left to live, the chance to escape her fate and get some action compels her into her absentee father’s world of beautifully cultured cruelty.

Once there, she’s the object of a deadly game, slated to alter the Fae realm’s power structure. Worse, the rules keep changing, and everyone has an ulterior motive, including her dae-licious guide, Brennan. Under a geas he’s desperate to break, she can’t trust him, or herself.

Stupid Stockholm syndrome.

But unless she can come to terms with what lies in her heart, her unlikely survival will be a fate worse than death. For her, and the rest of Fae.

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Air and Darkness

 

“Brennan growled and offered me his arm. I took it, and he escorted me to the table. All of the Riders were in attendance and looking dapper. I honestly didn’t know they made tuxedos that big, and surprisingly, the guys didn’t look like trained gorillas in them. Stewie definitely had shades of Gomez Adams going on, and the other two were all mafia-tough. Jonas fell into that category, too, but kept pulling at his collar. I was pretty sure it wasn’t just the fit that was making him uncomfortable.

The room was hella tense, and the table broken out by factions. Anyone associated with Fire was at one end, then Gaia. She had on a cloth-of-gold kaftan that made her skin literally glow, and her hair was in intricate braids. She exuded vitality and beauty, everything that the title of Mother Earth evoked. She also looked stoned off her gourd.

Aegaeus was across from her.

Cue the data dump.

All right, so look. The All Father wasn’t the only one I had history with. Oh please, like that’s a huge shock, but this wasn’t like that one time at band camp. This had been very specifically, that one time after a bris in Canaan. The wine hadn’t watered been nearly enough, not that I’d complained, and for whatever reason, Aegaeus had decided to let loose, and I’d totally taken advantage. You know, that whole opposites attracting—Okay, maybe it was more seeing how far I could push him, and then he totally called my bluff. What? There was no way I was backing down, and let’s just say that our sexual game of chicken went further than either of us intended.

Anywho—I think I mentioned make-up sex was freaking hot. Well, let’s just say hate sex with Aegaeus had been steamy.

Literally.

Yeah. So I know I said after he first merged with Morgana he was all skinny with a shrunken chest, but that’s not how he looked way back when, or now. Whatever body sharing set-up he’d worked out with her had let him fully assume his form, which was basically the little mermaid’s daddy on steroids. His grey hair flowed across his shoulders all Fabio, and his beard was close cut. He was in an inky black tux, and the buttons on his shirt were pearls. Anyways, I smiled at him, and he scowled.

Yup, still hated me. Moving on.

Kyle—no, the All Father—was farther down. He was Baywatch meets GQ amazing with some svelte blonde chippy at his side, the sprite Brennan had mentioned if I had to guess, and most likely the dumb cunt he’d been referring to, though I doubted she was wearing a G-string or anything else resembling panties. Not under that dress. Remember that air ghost with boobs back at the temple? Sprites can turn corporeal if the mood strikes them, but she probably wouldn’t be able to maintain it through dinner without frequent reminders. They weren’t known for their mental prowess. They were known for being wide-eyed, brainless gutter sluts. Figures the All Father would bring one. He knew they made my teeth grind. God, I hated bimbos.

Whatever. They both ignored me, too busy eye-fucking each other.

I ground my teeth.

At the end of the table was the Gwinth. He looked good, but so had crypto when it first came out. His eyes burned gold as they ran over me, and he licked his lips. It made me want to bathe in bleach. Kennet sat at his right hand in a formal kilt. No lie, it was the ugliest plaid I’d ever seen. Mustard yellow, periwinkle, and a weird shade of red that couldn’t make up its mind to go orange or purple. His calves made up for it. They were super impressive in those tight fringed socks.

Brennan pulled out the chair at the end of the table, and I sat, all eyes less two pairs on me.

Well, wasn’t this nice.

I smiled so I wouldn’t scream, and Brennan tapped the side of his glass with a butter knife to get Joanie and Chachi’s attention. Everyone else was already rapt. Some of them disturbingly so.

“I appreciate all of you bringing your candidates for representation.” Brennan glared at the All Father, and he didn’t seem to notice, still intent on that sprite. Was he trying to make me jealous? What? No, it wasn’t working; it was just rude.

The imps came in with salads. It was one of my favorites. Hearts of palm with supremes of citrus and sliced fennel bulb. I munched as Brennan continued.

“As of midnight tomorrow, none but those formally approved by all parties shall have access to Envy. We’re in agreement that the rota will run from sunrise to sunset—”

“I’m not getting up at sunrise.”

“—until a consort is chosen. The proscribed hours are traditional, Lovely.”

“I don’t care.” I batted my lashes at him. If I had to play along with this crap, I sure as hell wasn’t doing it at the ass-crack of dawn. “Ten to ten.”

“That cuts into my hunting time,” the Gwinth said.

I rolled my eyes. “Boo-freaking-hoo. Being dead will cut into it more. Have fun with that. I agreed to let you court me, not rearrange my schedule to suit yours. Take it or leave it.”

His eyes glinted. “Oh, I firmly intend to take it.”

Asshole.”

 Flame and Shadow

 

I sat up, pulling the airy duvet around me, then dangled a foot to the floor. It landed on the softest sheepskin rug you could imagine. I scrunched my toes in it, staring through the window to the blue-green water spreading out to the horizon. I sure wasn’t in Vel City anymore.

Taking the duvet with me, I crossed the goldstriated marble floor. There was a door that led to a wide, white, stuccoed balcony with clusters of big, leafy plants in turquoise pots. I was surprised to find it unlocked. Sad, huh? Outside, it was just water and sky.

The sun was magic on my skin, and I raised my face to it, soaking it in with my eyes closed. It was a balmy, wet heat. The kind that makes you feel like you’ve got a steamed towel wrapped around you. That, the blistering sun above… I dropped the duvet and gave a huge sigh, letting it beat down on me. The steady breeze flicked my hair against my backside, and I smiled, wondering at my luck waking up in paradise.

“And I’d thought that view couldn’t be improved.”

I spun at the cultured European drawl, scrabbling up the duvet and clutching it to my chest. My heart was going gangbusters, and I’d flushed scarlet. The daemon that’d taken me sat at a small breakfast table tucked amidst that potted jungle of greenery. No wonder I hadn’t seen him. Asshole could’ve let me know he was there before I’d dropped trou.

His ankle was crossed over his knee, and he was reading the paper. He wore charcoal slacks and a crisp white shirt, the sleeves rolled up and the collar open. A large gold watch was on his left wrist. There was no trace of gray in his jet hair. The top was long, and it’d been slicked back. He was clean-shaven, and let me just say, holy freaking drool. I swallowed, and he grinned an impossibly white smile.

“Good morning, Lovely. Come, sit. Have something to eat.” I didn’t move, and he slid out the seat next to him with an oxford-shod foot. “Please, I promise not to bite.”

His smile said something totally different.

Jerk was playing with me, and my temper jumped. The dimple in his cheek deepened, and the last thing I felt like doing was eating, but you don’t just tell a fae to piss off and expect to walk away. They had a thing for manners. I sat, trying to dig mine out, and a small woman in a uniform came over with a plate of crepes.

She set it in front of me. I stared at her pebbly skin. Her smile had too many teeth, and they were super pointy.

Not a woman, an imp.

“Uh…thank you?”

She nodded curtly and left, toe talons tapping. I paused before picking up my fork. Taking anything from a fae was dicey—

“You have my word that nothing offered in my home will indebt you to me.”

I made myself meet his eyes. “Is this your home, and will it indebt me to anyone else?”

“Clever girl…it is, and no debts will be claimed by any other. I offer no promises beyond that…unless you’d care to bargain for more?”

“No.”

“Pity.” He snapped his paper back up, and proceeded to ignore me while I ate.

I tried to study him from beneath my lashes as I did. He was too young to be the one I’d seen with my mother, but what were either of them doing? Fae in general were high rollers, living the lifestyle of the rich and famous. They didn’t slink around Priories and in undercity pubs. I could write off my mother with one given her past, but me? I was a nobody. It didn’t make sense. Neither did the golem. I started to feel weepy, and that made me mad. So did the daemon’s eyes crinkling at me over the edge of the paper as my stigmata flared with my temper.

I stabbed a stupid crepe, trying not to think about Kyle and Berk back in Vel. I was sure they were okay. I just wasn’t sure I’d ever see them again. Who was I kidding? They, and everyone else in the pub, would’ve written me off, and they’d be right to. I told you, getting snagged by a fae had a survival rate of zero. At least, nobody I’d ever heard of had come back to tell the tale.

Despite my cheery thoughts, I won’t lie, the crepes were just about the best thing I’d ever eaten. I figured I could die happy with them in my stomach. The imp seemed pleased when I said so and asked for seconds. As soon as I’d finished, the daemon tucked away his paper and lit a long, gold-filtered cigarette. The imp came back with espresso. I was feeling fancy and had mine with a twist.

“Thanks for that with the golem… I mean, it was a golem…?”

He blew out a long stream of smoke. It was a gross habit, but he made it look worth taking up. “Yes, and you’re welcome.”

“Uh, any idea why it was there?”

“For you, otherwise it wouldn’t have revealed itself.”

He didn’t seem particularly concerned, but my mouth went dry. Had he been watching me? Did he have anything to do with the dae Calista had been screwing? And more importantly:

“Are you going to eat me?”

He took another drag and raised a gorgeous eyebrow at me. “Would you like me to?”

Yeah, I just about died. That totally wasn’t what I meant.

 

AK Nevermore enjoys operating heavy machinery, freebases coffee, and gives up sarcasm for Lent every year. A Jane-of-all-trades, she’s a certified chef, restores antiques, and dabbles in beekeeping when she’s not reading voraciously or running down the dream in her beat-up camo Chucks.

Unable to ignore the voices in her head, and unwilling to become medicated, she writes Science Fiction and Fantasy full time.

She pays the bills editing, wielding a wicked hot pink pen and writing a column on SFF. She also belongs to the Authors Guild, is a chapter treasurer for the RWA, teaches creative writing, and on the rare occasion, sleeps.

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