Synopsis

The lead couple meets at a support group for the possessed.

Enrique Marin wants a quiet life after the death of his wife. Just one problem stands in the way—he’s possessed by the misanthropic English demon, Tzazin. A violent night under demonic influence accidentally leads Enrique to love, and it’s anything but quiet.

Shy, autistic yoga instructor Elle thought allowing herself to be possessed by the very-not-shy sex demon Key would help her find love. She finds Enrique, but she didn’t count on coping with the anti-demon bigotry of society.

Fate—and AA meetings for the possessed—brings them together, but hostile forces, demonic and human, fight to keep them apart. It might cost them everything to keep their love alive.

Amazon

Synopsis

Enrique thinks he’s probably innocent.

Enrique and the demon inside him didn’t kill a man in New Mexico. No. No way. Did they? His possessed autistic girlfriend, Elkie, doesn’t think so either. Probably. Even with all that evidence.

Guidry the Technomancer isn’t so sure, but he’ll do what he can to help Enrique reveal the truth before Memphis “Witchkiller” Aldrain, the Shotgun Sorcerer, catches up.

It’s going to take help from their friends, demonic and otherwise, to unravel the mystery of how Enrique didn’t or did commit murder. On the run, they’ll find hidden Riftsider towns, demonic night clubs, and unworldly ways to get around–a necessary precaution once a hellhound gets on their trail. The clock is ticking. Will they find the truth before bounty hunters – or worse – find them?

Amazon

Synopsis

Enrique’s first official field assignment leading a team of demonically possessed agents is investigating remains found in the New Orleans bayou that fit in a shoebox.

Elkie insists they first get rid of Enrique’s recent curse by visiting an old and dangerous adversary.

The others hunt the city and swamps where Father Ebbs uncovers blasphemous truths with a new friend—truths that will tear the group apart and fill the bayou with blood.

Amazon

Excerpt

“Does he talk to you?” asked Enrique.

“We communicate, but not quite in words. More like hunches and feelings. When he’s mad, I can tell.”

“Does yours talk?” Enrique asked, turning to Ebbs.

“She would love it if I listened,” Ebbs replied. “It’s more like a constant distant howling. I’ve learned to box that out. Elle’s passenger is entwined. They both exist in the same space. I’m sure you’ll meet her, too.”

“Tell us a little about yours,” Dante said, taking a slow sip of his coffee.

Enrique slumped backward in the seat, looking to the ceiling with a chuckle.

“Yes,” taunted the lilting British accent only Enrique heard. “Do tell about me.”

“Tzazin,” Enrique said. “My demon is Tzazin Auropolus. I call him Taz. He, well, he’s kind of like me in that sometimes he just doesn’t know when to shut up. When I look in reflections, I can see him. Always just over my left shoulder. Glass reflection doesn’t always work. Sometimes it does, and he insists it’s due to how natural or man-made the material is.”

“Now tell them how startlingly handsome I am,” Taz whispered.

“He looks like a man with gray sandpaper skin. And his eyes are this weird sickly off-yellow.”

“That’s not even slightly flattering,” Taz complained.

“But he’s got some sort of knowledge tap. It’s like having a running connection to Google.”

“I’m an archivist, you human nimrod. Show some respect.”

“Oh, he’s telling me right now I should tell you he’s an archivist.”

“And when Taz pilots?” Dante asked.

“When Taz pilots, I blackout. And end up in jail. And told I can be out on probation if I come here to learn to control him.”

“You make that sound so one-sided,” Taz said with a snicker. “Who’s fingerprints were there? Certainly not mine.”

Enrique set his jaw and placed his coffee cup on the floor.

“Yo, ain’t no one told me we got a newbie.”

Enrique turned to see a young girl with dreadlocks step into the room biting into an apple and letting the juice flow down her chin.

“Enrique, the rude teen girl is my niece, Yesania,” Dante said with a slight smile and a gesture. “You bring enough for everyone?”

“You got your doughnuts,” Yesania pointed. “Not poisoning my body with more of that shit than I have to, oh sorry for the language, Father. No offense. Hey, Elle.”

Elle looked up and brushed long hair aside, smiling with a wave.

“None taken,” Ebbs said as he reached for another doughnut. “Especially since that means more for us who know what good food is.”

Yesania screechingly pulled a chair to sit directly in front of Enrique, throwing off her hoodie to the floor and pushing dreadlocks from her face. She leaned forward and stared into Enrique’s eyes.

“Go ahead. Show me who you got,” she demanded.

“Yesania,” Dante warned, putting his hand on her shoulder to ease her away.

“No, Unc,” she snapped, shrugging him off. “Show and tell. You ain’t here for some small-time imp. Show me.”

“You don’t want that.” Enrique slid his chair back.

“She wants it,” Taz said, clearly with a grin Enrique felt in the back of his mind.

“She doesn’t want that,” Enrique hissed.

“You show me yours, I’ll show you mine,” Yesania teased. “Lookie.”

The room was overwhelmed by the smell of lilacs as Yesania held out her palm and blew across it as if blowing flower petals from her hand. A sparkling yellow dust scattered from her empty hand and hung in the air in a vaguely feminine shape that bowed politely.

“Meet Cali,” Yesania announced.

Enrique reached his hand out, curious. The sparkling dust extended what would be a hand and settled on his. It felt mildly electric and warm.

“Caliosandra,” the dust shape whispered in introduction as it appeared to grow less dense.

Yesania panted as the dust form fell but vanished before it touched the floor.

“You okay?” Dante asked.

“Yeah, letting her out is tiring sometimes,” Yesania said. “Long day of practice. That’s kind of why I’m here. Can’t get completely rid of her unless I just go to sleep. She’s not the prize I originally thought.”

“She means die,” Taz said to Enrique.

“I know what she meant,” Enrique replied.

“Oh, you got a full-time talker,” Yesania smiled. “Come on, I showed you mine. You got some sort of manifest?”

“You don’t want to do that,” Enrique cautioned.

“Too scary? I can handle it.”

“Yesania, stop,” Dante said flatly.

“No, Unc, I don’t think I will. If I gotta be in this room, I want to know who’s here with me. Show me.”

“If he’s not ready, Yesania,” Ebbs added.

“I am not staying if I don’t know who’s here,” Yesania insisted.

“Reveal me,” Taz called. “It’s only fair if I make myself known.”

About the Author

Paul DeStefano has been writing professionally for tabletop gaming companies for decades and now brings his unique worldbuilding skills to his own novels. As a writing teacher and supervisor of a Recreation Therapy team at a rehabilitation center, he has unique views on classically disadvantaged populations and their need for representation and expression. After the release of the smash hit game Oathsworn: Into The Deepwood, his novels and lectures went on to explore the quirkiest aspects of human nature.

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