Former Goth girl and reluctant psychic Nicki Styx would give anything to be invisible to the spirit world, but a near-death experience and a brief trip to the other side have left her with the ability to see and hear the dead… and boy, do they want to be heard. Nicki thought she had her somewhat dubious “gift” under control, until the Devil himself decides he wants to stir up a little trouble. If Nicki won’t come to work for him, he’ll use his influence over the restless dead to make her life a living hell.

Sammy Divine is the smokin’ hot new owner of Divinyls, the hottest new indie music store in town. He’s also the Devil in disguise, and he’s moved in directly across the street from Nicki’s vintage clothing store, Handbags and Gladrags. Despite Sammy’s claim that “demons are a ghoul’s best friend”, Nicki wants nothing to do with this bad boy with a dark side. But the Devil’s in the details, and Sammy’s out to seduce Nicki Styx, one way or another.

EXCERPT

     The loud thump of bass from a car radio came to my ear as I walked down the driveway toward my little red Honda. The trees on my street were thick with spring growth, so I couldn’t see where the music was coming from, but it was way too loud for this quiet neighborhood.

     AC/DC’s “Highway To Hell”, getting louder and louder.

     No way. Not possible.

     I stood outside my car, listening, as the music got even louder.

     And then he was there, pulling into my driveway with a crunch of gravel and a blast of sound, looking wicked cool behind the wheel of a classic black vintage Mustang convertible.

     Sammy. In the flesh. Again.

     The Mustang came to a halt right behind my Honda, blocking the driveway. Sammy’s hand flicked toward the radio dial, and the music died abruptly, leaving only the low rumble of the engine in its wake.

     “Care for a ride, little girl?”

     Sammy lowered his Raybans enough to peer over, giving me his sexiest grin. Bright blue eyes, full of mischief. The cocky bastard appeared to be truly enjoying himself.

     “I’m glad you’re here, actually.” I wasn’t going to let Sammy’s commando attack rattle me. So he knew where I lived… had I expected anything different? “It gives me the chance say ‘fuck off’.”

     Sammy burst out laughing, tilting his blond head back and slipping his sunglasses into place.

     My knees were shaking, but he didn’t know that. Unless he had x-ray vision, which he might, but I didn’t care. I was no expert on the powers of Satan—my time as a Goth had been spent exploring the fashion side, not the dark side.

     “Oh, Nicki,” he said, still smiling. “Do you know how rare it is for someone to say that to me?” He cocked his head to the right, patting the seat next to him with a flourish. “Come, ride with me, and we’ll talk.”

     “No.” I took refuge in what I’d already learned about Sammy; he had no power without my consent. If I didn’t want to go for a ride with him, I didn’t have to go for a ride with him.

     “Don’t you want to talk about your boyfriend’s little problem? I can fix it, you know.”

     Dammit.

     “Hear me out.” Sammy placed a hand over his heart, almost as though he had one. “That’s all I ask. I promise I’ll be a perfect gentleman.” His smile faded, became a rueful grin. “I just want to talk to you, Nicki. One early morning ride on a beautiful spring day… that’s all I ask. If you still want to be a good little girl after that—though I can’t imagine why—I’ll leave you alone.”

     “You’ll leave me alone.” I was highly suspicious of any plan as simple as this.

     Sammy nodded, hand still on his heart. “I’ll leave you alone.”

     It was a bad idea. I knew it in my heart, I knew it in my soul.

     But I saw Joe’s face, the way it looked when I’d opened my eyes that day in the E.R.—concerned, caring, totally hot in a guardian angel kind of way. Joe was meant to be a doctor, and my actions of yesterday could well end his career.

     “You’ll keep your hands to yourself,” I said flatly, “and you’ll have me back here within one hour.”

     Sammy grinned, cheerful as a child who’d gotten his own way. “One hour,” he said. “Honest to God.”

     I cringed, literally, half-expecting a lightning bolt to strike Sammy on the head. “Are you kidding me?”

     “Lighten up, Nicki.” Sammy leaned over the passenger seat and threw open the car door. “Where’s your sense of humor?”


 

Copyright © 2007 Terri Garey, All Rights Reserved