top of page

The Renfield Syndrome

Vampires, and werewolves, and demons, oh my.

 

Rhiannon thought facing off against a deranged child vampire was the most dangerous task she would ever have to undertake, but she's about to discover making a deal with a demon is far, far worse. Sent forward into another reality, one in which vampires are now dominating nearly extinct humans, she realizes the sooner she returns to her vampire lover, Disco, the better.

 

Unfortunately, time changes a lot of things; including those most trusted around her. When she's faced with a loss and betrayal unlike any she has ever known, her focus shifts from severing the debt between the demon that wants to kill her, to exacting a revenge that will bring forth consequences she never could have fathomed. By reaching out to the darkness lingering within her, she'll find the strength to push forward despite the circumstances that would see her dead and buried.

 

After all, when it's all said and done, all that she has left to lose is her soul.

 

This book contains explicit sexual content, graphic language, violence, and situations that may be triggering to some readers. For mature audiences only. 

EXCERPT

Son of a demon bitch.

I lifted my eyes, meeting Zagan’s ecstatic expression. I’d choke on the fucking amulet before I returned the cursed relic to it. “No.”

I exhaled, clutching at my shirt to locate the amulet the demon had come for, and twined my fingers around the rounded shape through the thin cotton. I gasped at the corresponding tingle of power that spread through my fingers, heated my palm and seeped up my arm. Dear lord, I’d never felt anything like it.

“Do not fuck with me, ghost purveyor!” Zagan brayed, glowering at me. “Accept your destiny. Do as I say. Give me what is rightfully mine, or I will rip out your spine!”

The ripples in the mirror extended, warping the edges of the frame, and the demon slid past the surface. The stink of sulfur burned my nose and covered the small area, surrounding me in waves of heat. Zagan had leapt clear of the mirror and started forward when the bathroom door crashed open, sending chips of plaster, paint and wood scattering across the floor.

My eyes jerked toward the sound.

Carter’s sidearm was out, the barrel level on the demon. “Get away from her.”

“This matter doesn’t concern you.” Zagan snarled, displaying teeth. “Leave.”

“I said…” Carter’s furious voice dipped an octave, and he growled each word distinctly, with an open warning. “Get. Away. From. Her.

“Rhiannon Murphy has something that belongs to me.” Zagan didn’t seem fazed by Carter or the gun. “I will not leave until she delivers it into my keeping.”

“Hand it over, Rhiannon,” Carter ordered and advanced into the room. “Peddling in demon magic carries a death sentence among us.”

“No,” I repeated, staring Zagan in the eye. “The demon can go fuck itself.”

That did it.

Zagan advanced, and so did Carter.

They clashed in a horrific display of muscle and strength.

Zagan’s slight frame and clean-cut appearance was deceptive. The demon was equally matched, engaging Carter easily. The gun slid free of Carter’s fingers and clacked loudly against the tiled floor, spinning as it sped across the way to rest against the far wall. I scrambled for it, kicking out with the soles of my feet as I scurried on my hands. I crab-walked toward the gun on my palms and heels.

A loud crash erupted from behind me, but I didn’t turn.

When I reached the weapon, I wrapped my hand around the comforting grip of the gun. Unexpectedly, I felt fingers twine into my hair. A hard yank caused a few strands to snap free.

“You will deliver the amulet into my keeping this time—of your own free will,” Zagan thundered. “It was smart on your part. You handed it over without informing me you’d initiated a blood rite. You’re more intelligent than I gave you credit for, mortal. I believed you completely ignorant of the workings around you.”

The next crack I heard came courtesy of my skull making solid contact with the wall. The room went out of focus, my eyes seeing everything in a hazy and confusing blur. Turning my head, I glimpsed a flash of camouflage—Carter. For a moment, I thought his clothing was tearing apart, separated as his body contorted, grew and reformed into something I’d never encountered before, something that was definitely not a man.

It wasn’t possible, was it? It couldn’t be…

I blinked rapidly, trying to bring the room into focus.

Zagan’s breath was hot against my cheek, its clawed nails biting into my skin, but Carter was the one who held my undivided attention. He changed within seconds, becoming something terrifying.

Holy shit.

Thick, dark hair covered his grotesque body, his limbs, torso and thighs disproportionate and unnaturally large. His face was no longer human, replaced by a broad snout and a multitude of razor-sharp teeth. The human hands I had once observed were now furry, his much longer fingers now clawed. He was more beast than man, more human than wolf, a mixture of something in between. The deafening roar that tore from his throat was horrifying—like a bear or lion facing certain death and emitting a final, chilling battle cry. A sharp, undeniable tendril of terror started at the back of my neck and traveled down my spine.

I was far less terrified of Zagan in that moment than I was of Carter.

bottom of page