The Series

Life isn't easy for monsters.

My name is Gin. Not Ginny or Ginger. Just Gin, like the crappy alcohol that tastes like Pine-Sol. I'm the Big Bad in a backwoods county in Oregon. Around here, I'm the one who keeps the local monsters in check. Because I'm a bigger monster.

It's not easy staying anonymous when you own magical blades that only archangels are supposed to possess, and you have to divide your time between running a ranch and killing the things that go bump in the night. But I manage. I was managing just fine, anyway, until someone decided to plant a Dolmen in my woods.

Dolmens are the world-ending variety of bad news. They attract attention. They wake old things. And this one is about to undo nine years of careful isolation. Now shifters, vampires, and demons are crawling out of the shadows like flies to rot. Worse, an archangel has started sniffing around, digging for secrets I buried for a reason.

They want my blades. They want me leashed. And their idea of mercy involves fire, steel, and a public execution.

Unfortunately, the angels are the least of my problems. Something darker has come to town — a creature who wears a man's face and leaves devastation in his wake. He's opening a club designed to lure every bloodsucker and demon in the region straight to my doorstep. And he's got a leash of his own.

He looks at me like a challenge he intends to enjoy breaking. He isn't the kind of monster I want to kill. He's the kind that makes me hesitate. The kind that tempts me into ruinous, reckless decisions. The kind that could get me killed.

If I want to survive what's coming, I'll have to make alliances with the very monsters I've spent my life hunting. I'll have to get uncomfortable. And I might have to become the worst monster of them all.

I probably should be dead.

But here I am, healing up in Dominic's bed. Never mind that he and his brothers are the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. Honestly, I've got bigger problems.

Like hunting down my brother and whatever disgusting monster turned him into the vampire who murdered my best friend. Like figuring out why my deadbeat angel father left me a puzzle box hidden inside an exploding Kelpie like some kind of celestial loot crate.

Like navigating Dominic Holder's mercurial man-feelings while trying not to lose my independence. Like bonding with my Angel Blades, because apparently that's not optional. Like keeping my city from going to hell under an influx of immortals.

And, you know… running my ranch. Oh. And shutting down the massive Dolmen on my property before it leaks the Dreaming into our world and drowns everything in monsters and madness.

So yeah. Just another week in the life. Guess that's what happens when you're an abomination.

Two and a half years.

I walked away from everything. My ranch. My territory. The Horsemen. I traded one apocalypse for a quiet little cabin on the Oregon coast and told myself I was done trying to save anyone.

Now I spend my nights hunting demons through the Dreaming and my days pretending I'm still human enough to blend in. I wouldn't call it winning, exactly, but the fact I'm still breathing feels like some kind of victory. Especially since some jackass decided I needed a promotion to Metatron.

The Church of the Morningstar is spreading faster than I can cut it down. Vampires are multiplying. Demons are organizing. Shifters are dying because they trusted me to protect them. And somewhere beneath all the blood and violence and exhaustion, the discordant Song of the Father keeps calling me toward something I have no desire to face.

Now Dominic Holder has bullied his way back into my life, and I'm stuck navigating the treacherous terrain of his unhinged obsession. Again. Because apparently being stalked by the Horseman of War is just forever now.

He says bigger threats are coming. That I can't keep fighting alone. That whether I like it or not, the world is falling apart, and I'm standing in the center of it. The problem is, Dominic already destroyed me once, and it doesn't take long for the lies and manipulations to start all over again.

And I'm not sure what's more dangerous anymore: the monsters hunting me, or the monsters starting to worship me. And as if this Divine Comedy couldn't get any more absurd, now it looks like I'm going to have to make a deal with the Devil.

As in… the actual Devil.

The next descent in the Corrupted Paradise Chronicles.