Dangerously Dark by C.J. Burright





Dangerously Dark
The Dreamcaster Series
Book Three
C.J. Burright
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Date of Publication: 11/13/17
ISBN:  978-0-9961472-4-8
ASIN:  B076PNNCR9
Number of pages:  321
Word Count: 96,065
Cover Artist:  Fiona Jayde
Some call him Purgatory’s Missing Prince. Demon Master. Overlord of Shadows. Only one woman may call him hers.
Book Description:
A master of dreams, a failure at life…
After another botched career attempt, Quinn Carmichael escapes to a remote lodge for a weekend recharge, needing respite…especially from the nightmares that haunt even her days. When a wounded, sexy-as-sin stranger faceplants unconscious on her kitchen floor, there’s something disturbingly familiar about him—as in he’s the boy from her childhood dreams. Mr. Dark, Dangerous, and Diabolical may be the key to unlocking the mysteries of her past and future, and Quinn isn’t about to let the opportunity—or him—escape without a fight.
His time is running out…
Known as Purgatory’s Missing Prince, Zaire’s existence has been one of endless pain, torture, and loss. Resigned to his fate, his final goal is simple—rescue his nephew before succumbing to the deadly darkness inside him. But when a fateful misstep brings him face-to-face with the one woman who could have saved him once upon a dream—the one woman he treasures above all else—he battles to keep his distance before he destroys her, too. But he would gladly sell his soul for just one taste.
Love draws them together, destiny will tear them apart
With ruthless enemies closing in, Quinn and Zaire must fight to save each other and those they care for before it’s too late—even if it means they’re doomed to live apart forever.
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Excerpt
2:
Quinn lifted her
face to the night-canvassed sky, to the blood-red moon, and refused to tremble,
denied the fear a foothold in her soul. Already, she’d come too close to that
happening, and the dreams had only just begun. She had the entire rest of the
night to survive.
A chittering
echoed from beyond a sand dune. Whatever had made the noise remained out of
reach for now, but not long enough. She slouched. So much for downtime.
Weariness
shuddered through her. It would be so easy to curl up on the cool white sand
beneath her boots and surrender. To let whatever monster came next do its worst
and slip into oblivion for a while, despite the cost. Gripping the iron cross,
its chain wrapped around her wrist, she closed her eyes. Relaxing for even a
second was dangerous, but she was so tired, she almost didn’t care.
“Quinn.” Close,
so close, the musical voice sang a shiver through her, more sinister for its
serene softness. She didn’t want to open her eyes, didn’t want to know what new
horror haunted her nightmares and knew her name.
With a resigned
sigh, she faced the voice and froze. Zaire stood in the sand a foot away. He
was different than outside the dream. His dark hair was shorter, in a skull
cut. Same olive skin, same kiss-me mouth, but his eyes…she inhaled. His eyes,
black velvet in life, now held an abysmal void, deeper and more potent than
when he’d been a boy. The darkness there pulled at her, grasping for her soul.
She forced her
attention to the rest of him, and her brain blanked while her body purred.
Black leather boots. Trousers covered in blue-black metallic scales. And a
shirt of the same iridescent material as his pants, only lighter. Black weapons
hung everywhere, sword at his lean hip, knives strapped across his broad chest,
on his belt, in his boots. The whip-end tail of one silver tattoo poked past
his collar and licked his collarbone.
Lethal. Vicious.
Magnificent.
He was her
midnight fantasy and nightmare combined. Fantasy because he embodied everything
she wanted. Nightmare because he wasn’t really Zaire. In her childhood, he’d
snuck into her dreams, a dark presence watching over her, but whatever wore his
face now wasn’t the boy from her past or the man she’d finally met. She gripped
her cross tighter.
“Nice sword,”
she said, her voice raspy with regret. “Come here often?”
He watched her
with those fathomless eyes, unblinking, and she had the strangest impression
that he memorized every detail of her. Probably searching for her weak points.
The chittering
beyond the sand dune grew closer, and she nearly slumped beneath another wave
of fatigue. Fighting a manifestation of Zaire along with whatever else came
along made her want to cry.
“Why so sad,
dearling?” Deep and soothing, his musical voice only added to her misery.
Dearling. She
wouldn’t have minded Zaire calling her that, but she wasn’t about to put up
with endearments from a demon, and dishonesty was a waste of time. The demons
always knew the secrets she tried to hide.
“Oh, you know.
All the usual.” Quinn straightened, pushing the exhaustion aside. “Nonstop
nightmares. Delusions in the daytime. Trying not to ruin my mother’s political
career. Figuring out what to do with my life. Meeting you.”
“Meeting me
brought you sadness?” His voice lowered another octave. He shifted slightly, and
his clothing shimmered, like dragon scales in the moonlight. His dark beauty
squeezed her heart. What she wouldn’t give to have him be real and with her
now, fighting the nightmares together. Calling her sweet names.
“It’s not you,
not really. It’s the idea of you. Your existence. Knowing you want to leave.”
She should kick herself. Conversing with a demon. Brilliant idea.
“Want and need
are not always equal.” Flames danced in his eyes, stirring up annoying embers
in her blood.
“Right.” She
snorted. “I’ve been around the block a time or two, pal. You read my thoughts,
manipulate my desires, and use them to tempt me into despair. Demons
one-oh-one.”
He frowned. “I
am not your…pal.”
Cresting the
dune, a shadow raced toward them, white sand churning beneath it. In archetypal
demon fashion, tendrils of fear preceded its arrival, which Quinn ignored. She
had enough experience with fear to resist its pull, and the demon two steps
away was much more treacherous.
And undeniably
intriguing.
“Sorry about
that. Do you prefer buddy?” She grinned at an unusual burst of energy. “How
about chum, bro, dude, or ol’ chap?”
“Zaire will do,”
he said stiffly.
“Nice Zaire
costume, by the way. Pal.” She rocked back on her heels, biting her lip to keep
from grinning like a crazy person. Typically, a demon staring at her with
murderous intent would batter her senses with wave after wave of horror.
Instead, she had the irresistible need to bedevil the demon.
Behind him, the
darkness loomed larger, speeding closer with each heartbeat. A shadow man,
common, familiar, and not particularly threatening. It couldn’t do much
physical damage, not when she was ready. She jerked her chin at the phantom
barreling down on them, five seconds away tops. Maybe that was what this Zaire
waited for, backup. “Friend of yours?”
Smooth as any
practiced dancer, Zaire freed a knife, pivoted, and threw it at the shadow
three yards away, all before she could flinch. The darkness exploded into black
and silver glitter, sparkling and lovely in the night.
He waited in
silence until she met his gaze again. “I don’t have friends.”
A thrill coasted
down Quinn’s spine, not the type of thrill she’d ever experienced in her
nightmares. This one spun warmth all the way to her toes and back to her scalp.
This demon was dangerous, and she wasn’t even referring to the blades strapped
to every limb—weapons that destroyed other demons. He made her needy and achy
and tingly in all the right places.

About the Author:

C.J Burright is a native Oregonian and refuses to leave. A member of Romance Writers of America and the Fantasy, Futuristic and Paranormal special interest chapter, while she has worked for years in a law office, she chooses to avoid writing legal thrillers (for now) and instead invades the world of urban fantasy, paranormal romance, or fantasy. C.J. also has her 4th Dan Black Belt in Tae Kwon Do and believes a story isn’t complete without at least one fight scene. Her meager spare time is spent working out, refueling with mochas, gardening, gorging on Assassin’s Creed, and rooting on the Seattle Mariners…always with music. She shares life with her husband, daughter, and a devoted cat herd.
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One thought on “Dangerously Dark by C.J. Burright

  1. Thanks for having me! 🙂

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