It's not easy to bargain with demons, which Eddie discovers the hard way after he escapes death by trading his soul to the demon Azir, a handsome and charming resident of Hell. Azir promises to return Eddie's soul in exchange for allowing demons the use of his body for their own amusement. It's the last deal he wants to make, but if he wants to save his soul, it may be his only choice.

There are many common-sense rules to live by, and I just managed to break three of them in one go: never wear black when walking at night, never cross against a red light, and never make a deal with the devil. So, there I am, lying in the street, the taste of blood in my mouth as I struggle to draw breath, and this guy walks up and looks down at me. He seemed like a normal guy, except for the absolute lack of any kind of human compassion in his eyes. He stared at me like I was some bug he couldn’t care less about stepping on.   “Boy, are you in a pickle or what?” he said, crouching down beside me. “That is a lot of blood. And I’m no expert on human anatomy, but I don’t think your arms and legs are supposed to bend like that. But I guess bouncing off a windshield, a telephone pole, and the street will do that to you.” He leaned closer, a flickering light dancing in the depths of his dark eyes. “You’re dying, Eddie. Can you feel it? Your life fading with each desperate beat of your heart?”   I wasn’t sure which was more frightening, that I could feel it, or that he knew my name.   “Are you ready to die, Eddie?” he asked. “In about two minutes, your heart will stop and your brain will cease to function, and you will find out what, if anything, waits for you on the other side. Are you ready for that? Or do you want to live?”   I tried to answer, but it came out as a sob, bloody bubbles flecking my lips.   “I can save you,” the strange man whispered, holding his hand out to me. …

An outcast dragon in the middle of mating season, Myr seeks relief in the only place he can find it -- with humans. Using his powers of mental persuasion, he compels a young woman into the forest and uses her to satisfy his burning desires.

It’s hard to be alone. There’s no one to tell you simple things, like why dragons don’t like the snow. It’s not that we have anything against snow—it’s pretty, all shiny white, and it makes the neatest crunching sounds under our feet. It’s that the shit is cold. And dragons don’t do well in the cold. I learned that the hard way. It was autumn when I crossed the mountains. I think that’s the only reason I survived. The snow had receded to the highest peaks and the shadiest valleys, and I was at the crest before I discovered my error. I stood, staring down into a beautiful, green valley, full of rivers and trees and small villages, and—most importantly—no sign of another dragon. It was paradise. And the only thing between me and the respite I desperately needed, was a north-facing slope covered in deep snow and broken ice fields. The ice was easy enough to navigate. My talons pierced the glassy surface and kept me from sliding, but the cold burned up through the scales of my feet, stealing the heat out of my legs. My muscles began to cramp. Then I hit the snow, my feet breaking through the icy crust and plunging into the wet slush beneath. I could literally feel the warmth bleeding out of my body, each step slower and more laborious than the last, my heart rate dropping to one or two beats a minute. It was all I could do to keep moving. I just wanted to lie down and sleep, but I knew if I did, I’d never wake up again. Old dragons sometimes bruminate in ice caves, their body temperature dropping to just a few degrees above freezing, sleeping for a hundred years or more, but I was not …

Vivian visits a 'specialty' whorehouse that promises to deliver her every fantasy--satisfaction guaranteed. She thinks she might be bisexual and is curious to find out, but she's not really expecting to find herself in bed with a mermaid and a dragon. Boy is she in for a surprise!

It took Vivian three tries to cross the street and two more to make it up the front walk and onto the porch of the old, Victorian-style house. Her hand trembling, she reached out and rang the bell, and very nearly lost her nerve completely. She turned to flee just as the door opened. A tall, dapper gentleman wearing a gray suit with a blue and silver waistcoat stepped out and caught her by the wrist. His hand was warm against her skin, almost hot, his grip like iron. Heart pounding, Vivian looked up at him. He was handsome, his features refined and sculpted, his eyes a startling shade of dark blue, but he was almost too perfect, like he couldn’t possibly be real. He wore small, square spectacles and a high, midnight blue top hat, a glossy black feather tucked into the silver silk band and held in place by a sapphire studded hat pin. “Good afternoon, my dear,” he said, his voice deep and cultured, but with a hint of an accent that made him sound exotic and lyrical. It sounded familiar, but she couldn’t begin to guess where he might be from. “What brings you to my den of desire?” Vivian blushed, her whole body burning as she swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly dry. “I want—I mean, my friend told me about this place,” she said. “It is true? That I can have whatever I want?” “It is true,” he said, his grip on her wrist melting into a soft caress as he released her. “Please, come inside and we can discuss what I can offer you.” Vivian hesitated. Her legs felt numb. She shouldn’t be doing this. She knew this was a bad idea, but the things Gloria had told her...She couldn’t walk away. Instead, she …

Bryce seeks revenge against the girl who betrayed him, using his magical spell book to possess her body and use it to take the most ironic revenge. All characters are 18+

Sitting alone at a table in the crowded cafeteria, Bryce picked at his lunch as he covertly kept an eye on his new target. In his back pocket, his phone vibrated, alerting him to yet another incoming text. His friends were looking for him, probably wondering why he wasn’t waiting at their usual table in the commons. It had been a week since they had taken their revenge on Finn, and while they all had plenty of ideas, they had yet to agree on who should next receive the magical justice coming to them. Bryce knew who he wanted—it kept him awake at night, jerking off as he planned out exactly what he was going to do—he just didn’t know how to break the news to his friends. “There you are!” Oliver said, dropping down onto the seat beside Bryce. Miguel sat across the table, curling his lip as he glanced around the institution-gray room. “What are you doing in here, amigo?” he asked in his sexy Spanish accent. “It’s gorgeous outside.” “Are you avoiding us?” Oliver asked with a laugh, flipping his purple hair back out of his eyes. When Bryce didn’t answer, his smile faded. “You are! It is because of the history project?” That was their code for talking about the spell book Bryce had found in his grandfather’s attic. “Look, I know I said we’d decide together, but this is just something I have to do,” Bryce said, glancing past Miguel to make sure his target was still eating lunch with her friends. “Who?” Miguel asked, starting to turn in his seat. “Don’t look,” Bryce hissed. “It’s Alice.” Miguel raised his eyebrows. “Your ex-girlfriend who ruined Junior year for you? The bitch who outed you to the world on social media? Hell yeah, count me …

When three high school seniors find a book of magic spells, they set out on a quest to teach their bullies a lesson. First up is Finn, the arrogant jock who has tormented them all for years. All characters are 18+.

The first day of senior year, Bryce rushed down the stairs of his high school, pushing through the ravenous lunch crowd. He headed, not for the cafeteria, but for the commons—a large, grassy area between the various buildings, studded with shade trees and graffiti decorated picnic tables. He scanned the open space, his gaze finding his two best friends seated at one of the shady tables. Grinning from ear to ear, he jogged over, his over-stuffed backpack thumping against his lumbar region. “Hey, fellas,” he said, plopping down beside Miguel and across from Oliver. “You are never going to believe what happened this summer.” “Momentito, amigo,” Miguel said in his sexy Spanish accent. Contrary to what the bigots at school said, he wasn’t Mexican, he was from Spain, and Bryce always thought he sounded like Puss-in-Boots. Yes, he had a bit of a crush on his friend, but Miguel was the hetero element in their little social circle, and Bryce respected that. “Oliver was just telling me about his vacation adventures.” “Oh, go anywhere exciting?” “My cousin’s wedding,” Oliver said, tucking a stray lock of bright purple hair back behind his ear. “In Wisconsin.” “Sounds fun,” Bryce said, his knee bouncing. He clutched at his backpack, fingers fiddling with the zipper pull. Oliver gave him a dark look, his blue eyes highlighted with black liner. “I was an usher. In a tux.” Bryce choked on a laugh, trying to imagine his friend in anything other than tight black jeans and flashy T-shirts. He was the gay one, and even though Bryce was somewhere between bi- and pansexual, they had never had those kinds of feeling about each other. Not surprising, really, considering how long they had been friends. They were nearly as close as brothers. Bryce waited, looking …