Amelia Swenson's plans for the weekend didn't include a sexy djinni or saving the world from demons, but plans change. Her whole life changes when Amelia discovers the ring to which the handsome djinni is enslaved, and at thesame time accidentally unleashes a demon into the world. The djinni, Al-Marid has been alone for three thousand years -- is it any wonder he falls for the woman who frees him? But who ever heard of a lilit? Lilits prey on men, drive them to madness, kill children, and cause miscarriages. And now Amelia has let one loose on her city.
In this adventure spanning time from the ancient middle east to the distant future, Amelia faces danger and discovers potentials she never new existed in herself and her world, all in the quest to free the maddening being she comes to love.
Genre: FICTION / Fantasy / Urban Life
I'm working on building the visibility of my books. I ran promotions for 'Spirited' in June 2017 and got 60 sales across multiple platforms, with rankings going from a low of 367,377 to a high of 30,945 on Amazon.
Brilliant light and a crash of sound erupted around her.
“Holy crap!” Amelia’s chair went down as she scrambled back, heart thumping wildly. She could hardly to see anything through the thick haze boiling around her, or hear for the ringing in her ears.The hairs on her arms and back of her neck stood erect, tingling as the air around her crackled with energy. She took another step back, away from a dark shape in the haze. She held her breath, waving a scent like hot peppers and cinnamon from her face, groping frantically to understand what was happening.The air cleared as swiftly as it had filled, revealing a huge man standing smack in front of her.
He loomed between her and the kitchen. He must have come in through the back, throwing in some kind of flash bomb or smoke bomb…Amelia stumbled farther back, banging into a bookshelf. The edge of a protruding volume jabbed her thigh. She felt oddly light, poised for action.She still had the small file she’d used to free the ring. If she needed a weapon she could use that, and her wits. Where were her wits? Her heart drummed double-time in her ears.
“Who the hell are you and what do you think you’re doing here?” she snapped, surprising herself with her own ferocity.
The strange man looked around as if he’d never seen an ordinary—though cluttered—dining room before. He looked like across between a Greek god and Mr. Clean, standing well over six feet in height, clad only in loose white pantaloons, his head shaved bald, olive skin, broad shoulders, a remarkably well-defined bare chest. His mustache framed a stern,beautifully shaped mouth, and his cheekbones jutted, prominent, below eagle eyes turning now to meet her own.
“I am the slave of the ring,” he announced.
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Italian
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Already translated.
Translated by Carmelo Massimo Tidona
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Spanish
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Already translated.
Translated by Juan C. Tello C.
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