"Reaper is . . . Epic. Thrilling. Amazing. No one can suck me into a story like Larissa Ione." -- Donna Grant, New York Times bestselling author”
For love, he’ll watch the world burn.
For revenge, he’ll light the match.
New York Times bestselling author Larissa Ione returns to her fan favorite Demonica Series with REAPER, available now!
THE DEMONICA SERIES RETURNS…
He is the Keeper of Souls. Judge, jury, and executioner. He is death personified.
He is the Grim Reaper.
A fallen angel who commands the respect of both Heaven and Hell, Azagoth has presided over his own underworld realm for thousands of years. As the overlord of evil souls, he maintains balance crucial to the existence of life on Earth and beyond. But as all the realms gear up for the prophesied End of Days, the ties that bind him to Sheoul-gra have begun to chafe.
Now, with his beloved mate and unborn child the target of an ancient enemy, Azagoth will stop at nothing to save them, even if it means breaking blood oaths and shattering age-old alliances.
Even if it means destroying himself and setting the world on fire…
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ExcerptLilliana woke to someone tap dancing on her bladder. Groaning, she rolled over and bumped into Azagoth. Pleasantly surprised that he was still in bed, she ignored her need to pee and curled up against him. She’d missed this so much while she was gone. “Good morning,” he murmured, his husky voice even more gravelly than usual. “Morning.” She snuggled into his shoulder. “I’m surprised you’re not working.” He yawned. “You wore me out last night.” Smiling against his skin, she trailed her fingers along the hard ridges and deep valleys of his abs. “I wanted to show you how grateful I was that you threw me a baby shower.” And she’d done it without getting too active. Eidolon couldn’t begrudge her one orgasm, right? “Mmm.” He pressed a kiss into her hair. “You must have been very grateful.” She slid her hand under the sheet and meandered her way to the curve of his hip. She might be a million months into her pregnancy, but her sex drive didn’t care in the least. “I’m still grateful.” He hissed as her knuckles brushed his shaft. “Not complaining.” It truly had been sweet of him to gather together the denizens of Sheoul-gra for a big celebration of food, drink, and games in the traditions of people from the human, demon, and angelic cultures. She’d suffered two more bouts of intense nausea and some cramps, but they’d passed quickly. What hadn’t passed was Azagoth’s concern. Which was probably why he was still in bed with her. It was cute the way he hovered. Annoying at times, but cute. “I just want you to know that you’re my life,” he said. “Without you, I’m a monster.” “And what are you with me?” He gave her a rare, boyish grin, made even more playful by his mop of bedhead. “A happy monster.” “I’m very happy about the happy.” She rubbed her eyes and yawned. “Things are good, Lil,” he said. “I never thought much about being a partner, let alone a parent, but I want to do these things with you.” He settled his hand on her belly and smiled with wonder. “This will be my first child born without a predetermined future. He or she can be anything. Do anything.” “Incredible, isn’t it?” She pushed up on one elbow and leaned in to kiss his chest. She’d kissed every inch of him last night. Maybe she’d lick every inch of him this morning. “And our baby will be born to parents who love each other.” Determined to show him how much she loved him, she kissed her way lower. Her lips whispered over his nipple, but before she could taste him, a cramp wrenched her insides. She sucked in a harsh breath, her hand going to her belly. “What is it?” Azagoth jackknifed up, his expression dark with worry. “Is it the baby?” Fierce heat swelled beneath the surface of her skin as her abdomen tightened. “I think it might be Braxton Hicks,” she said between panting breaths. “What?” “Cara had them.” Closing her eyes to stop the room from spinning, she eased back onto her pillow. “They’re like practice contractions.” She didn’t remember Cara complaining about being hot and sweating buckets, though. Another cramp streaked through her, and she moaned. Cara had said they were painful, as if someone were squeezing her intestines. This was more like someone was driving a red-hot blade through them. “You’re white as a ghost, Lilli.” Something’s wrong. No, nothing was wrong. She was being paranoid. Azagoth rested his palm on her forehead, testing her temperature. “Are these Hicks things supposed to be like this?” She heard the panic in his voice but not the words. Her ears were buzzing. Her head was pounding. And, suddenly, a wave of agony wrapped around her and squeezed so hard she screamed. Vaguely, she heard Azagoth call out her name as a warm gush spread between her thighs. “Lilliana? Lilliana!” His voice droned in and out as the room began to tilt. There was shouting. More pain. Her thoughts fragmented. And then, finally…nothing.
About Larissa IoneAir Force veteran Larissa Ione traded in a career in meteorology to pursue her passion of writing. She has since published dozens of books, hit several bestseller lists, including the New York Times and USA Today, and has been nominated for a RITA award. She now spends her days in pajamas with her computer, strong coffee, and supernatural worlds. She believes in celebrating everything, and would never be caught without a bottle of Champagne chilling in the fridge…just in case. She currently lives in Wisconsin with her retired U.S. Coast Guard husband, her son, a rescue cat named Vegas, and her very own hellhounds, a King Shepherd named Hexe and a Belgian Malinois named Duvel.
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