The Demon Mistress on First Sight Saturday

The Demon Mistress on First Sight Saturday

Each Saturday I welcome a guest author to share a first meeting excerpt. This week I am happy to have Jordan K. Rose with her paranormal romance The Demon Mistress. Jordan’s fun fact is that every hero she’s ever written has at least one trait she’s taken from her husband. I like that!

This excerpt isn’t exactly a first meeting, but it is the first time we readers are lucky enough to meet Chryssie and Stefan.


~Eva Prim Writes~
A Blog of Vampire Thoughts.
October 24th
I consider you all my friends, well, not all of you. Not you, Studmufflicker69. You are definitely not my friend. In fact, you’re banned from this blog. Do not ever comment again. Yesterday’s comment about bondage was completely inappropriate. No one wants to hear about your deviant sex life.
Everyone else, you are all my friends. I don’t know where you are or what you look like, but over the past three weeks I feel like we’ve come to know each other. And I like you. Especially you, PenPro58. You’ve been very kind and have truly made my blogging experience a pleasure. Without friends, life can be so lonely. You’ve all made me feel loved.
Good friends are so hard to find. Thank you all.
Ooh! Time to go. I await your comments. Eva.
“Chryssie, darling, what are you doing?”
I close my laptop and shove it into the drawer just as the door opens and Stefan steps in, looking utterly dashing.
“Blogging.” I pause to enjoy the sight of him as he walks toward me. The muscles in broad shoulders fill out his suit jacket quite nicely. “Why are you dressed like that?” I drag his desktop back into place, returning the keyboard to its rightful spot.
He pulls me up from the chair and presses a soft kiss to my lips. “I’ll never understand what you find so entertaining about those foolish conversations.”
“It’s just fun to talk with people who…” I glance toward the computer.
“They don’t know who you are. They’re not your real friends, my flower.” His fingers skim along my chin.
“I know. But I like them anyway.” I sit on the desk as he takes the seat I just vacated. “What’s with the suit?”
“You don’t like it? I thought for sure you’d like this suit,” he answers, clicking away at the keyboard.
“It’s nice.” It’s very nice. Navy blue, cashmere blend with a crisp white shirt accented by gold cuff links and a periwinkle blue silk tie. The ensemble plays up his deep ebony eyes. His long black hair is tied back at the nape of his neck, and his face is shaved, baby-smooth, revealing the cleft centered in his perfectly chiseled chin.
“It’s unusual for you to dress so formally when you’re simply going to the office.” I run my hand down his ponytail allowing the thick hair to slide through my fingers, fanning his cologne into the air. 
He smells heavenly. Eternity cologne, my favorite, blends with his scent, a manly, woodsy, sort of campfire-ish aroma with a sweet tang. It makes my mouth water.
“I have a meeting that requires more formal attire.”
The V Mail System opens on the screen. The nightly news flash features a very angry looking Cletus Shiftbottom snarling as he’s dragged away in chains.
“They finally caught him. I knew it wouldn’t take long,” I say.
“That is a picture from three days ago. He’s escaped again,” Stefan comments as he navigates to his personal vmail.
“They should have known he’d escape. Why didn’t they just kill him when they caught him?”
As he stares at the picture on the screen his left nostril twitches, and I know he’s thinking about his honor. “I will deal with Cletus myself.”
I purse my lips. A good master is honor-bound, which is just a nice way of saying, you made it, you deal with it. I’ve seen Stefan deal with the whole honor-bound issue a lot. It’s never pretty.
“Well, let me know if you want some help. I’ll be happy to stake him myself after what he’s done. You know he’s making you look like an idiot, right? Everyone is talking about how he’s gone bonkers, terrorizing other vampires, scaring humans, even giving shit to the wolves.” A chip in the nail polish on my pinky finger stands out in stark contrast to sparkly dark pink paint. “Damn it. I just painted these.”
“I am well aware of what’s being discussed and why, darling. I do not need you to remind me.” His tone is less than grateful.
“You don’t have to get snippy.”
“Cletus overpowered the four guards assigned him. He’s much more powerful than anyone realized.” He opens a message titled Blue Moon.
“Like I said, let me know if I can—”
“No. You can’t help.” He clicks on the attachment in the email, and the financials for one of his subsidiary companies opens. As he stares at the information in front of him his cheek pulses.
My shoulders sag. “It’s always the same answer.” I glance at the screen. “Is there supposed to be so much red?”
He inhales sharply as he clicks the keys on his computer. “No.” The pages scroll down moving like a slot machine reel. He nods and closes the application.  
“I will be very late tonight, possibly not returning until just about dawn.” He stands and kisses my forehead. “I would appreciate you staying home.”
“That’s fine. I have some…” I smile. “Some reading to catch up on.”
His gaze wanders over me, a heated brush of his presence.
I feel my cheeks flush.
His left eyebrow rises. “What are you reading?”
I squeeze his hands and avoid his eyes. “Oh, a little something.”
I turn away to lead him toward the door.
“Chryssie, what book?” He’s right behind me, close enough that it’s not his presence I feel, but his body molded to mine. His arms clamp around my waist and he pulls me back against him. “What book?”
“Nothing to worry about.” I try to wiggle loose, but he only holds me tighter.
“You haven’t been down in my personal library again, have you?” He breathes the words against my hair, and my legs go all rubbery.
I giggle, sliding my hand between his lips and my ear. “Stop that. You told me not to read any of those books, so I’m not.”


You can find The Demon Mistress on Amazon at 

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Jordan and I both welcome any questions or comments! Come back every Saturday for a fresh new excerpt from a visiting author.

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