Don't let the cover fool you.
This is a hardcore romance mixed in with horror as is the whole Soul Reaper Series. If you are interested in reading my upcoming Deathly Encounters Series. Masquerade is where my Angel of Death was born. This series and the characters in it are some of my favorites.
Brenna has been in the shadows for years. Veronica has been
trying to escape her ex forever. Each is living lives they never assumed
would be theirs. Each is hiding behind a mask they never desired to
True love has finally come to Brenna in the guise of Cain. Before
she can fully realize her affections, her life is shattered by
something that steps out of the darkness. This intrusion threatens her
Veronica stumbles into Brenna and her world is thrown upside
down. Drawn to a woman she doesn’t know. She sees Brenna’s growing
affection for Cain as a hindrance. She tries to warn Brenna that not all
is what it seems. However, she doesn’t want to listen and now danger is
on their doorstep. Veronica’s ex, Devon, has caught up with her.
Will Brenna and Veronica survive their ordeal? Will Devon come for them both? Or will all masks finally come off?
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My name is Brenna.
The heaviness of the atmosphere rolled around my tongue,
lingering in my nose like a fine vintage of wine. It was a hot, humid
day. Clothes stuck to every inch of skin, and a sane person hungered for
a shower after the slightest exertion. Traces of spices and sweat clung
to the fragrance of the day as exotic food was prepared on every
corner. Even a hint of magic wafted on the day’s aroma. Spells had been
cast to bar intruders and ignite passionate love affairs.
As these scents carried me into consciousness, a slight breeze
blew through the Quarter, pulling the bouquets of the day with it. My
nostrils flared at the odor on the back of the wind: the wet, dark,
musty smell of death and an oncoming storm. Death was part of the
culture here, always lingering like the ghosts in the city. Rain came
often, but never lasted more than an hour or so, making this place more
like a tropical paradise than a bustling city. Even the downpours
couldn’t keep the sightseers from exploring the small shops, as well as
admiring the balconied apartments in the Quarter. Many were small oases,
housing lush plants, which allowed the inhabitants to escape from the
cameras and voyeurs. I inhabited one of these sought-after lodgings, but
kept the windows shuttered so the sun couldn’t creep in and disrupt my
I rose, yawning as the heaviness of sleep had not yet left me.
Darkness caressed my naked form while the whirling fan cooled my bare
skin. Stretching, I urged my body to rise and face the night. I opened
the shutters to see the sun painting hues of purple and pink in the hazy
air, signaling the fast approaching blue-greens of twilight. I smiled.
This was the scene that had greeted me for years. I flicked on the
light. I shielded my eyes from the sudden illumination until my pupils
I admired my body in the bureau mirror. The overhead lamp gave my
milky skin a jaundiced tint that contrasted against the pink of my
nipples. My appearance attracted both sexes; it was something in the
pheromones. The sex of my partners didn’t matter. I only wanted the ones
who could fulfill my desire.
The jasmine-touched breeze danced through my apartment as the
coolness of full night blossomed like a moonflower inside my chest. I
stretched, now entirely awake as the sluggishness of the day fell away
like a misty shroud. The moon’s silvery light already warmed my skin.
Its blaze had replaced the sun in my memories and the power of it
ignited my heart, night after glorious night.
Staring at my body a moment longer, I realized tonight was not
the night for me to turn into Narcissus and be captured by my own
beauty. I had eons for that. My gums ached, and hollowness filled my
insides. Tonight I’d dress to kill, so to speak. I donned a black velvet
dress, black thigh-high stockings, and black Doc Martens.
My gaze fell on the things I would need to complete my disguise. A
contact case and scattered makeup: everything I needed to fit in
better. From the lot, my tarot cards called to me. I smiled, wondering
what Fate had in store for me tonight. Mentally, I checked my schedule
and knew I had no clients to read. No one to tell a husband was
cheating, or a sickness was devouring them, or a fortune would be lost
in the stock market.
I smirked at the thought of how easily I peered into the minds of
my clients, divining their futures and reading their emotions. After
one session, they always came back. I had a good reputation, unlike the
phony psychics who lined Jackson Square. Hotel managers and local occult
shops referred tourists to me. I loved unearthing secrets from my
I studied the cobalt backs, admiring the golden stars. I had
owned them for years. My right hand passed over the line of cards,
automatically settling on one in the middle and then another at the end.
Energy sparked between the cards and my palm. I pulled those two cards
to see how the evening would progress and to give me a glimpse into the
more distant future. The first card I flipped was the Lovers. It
signified I would meet someone to spend eternity within the next couple
Yeah, right! I giggled, wondering who my next conquest would be.
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