Prim & Proper blurb
The list of things that should not occur includes, but is not limited to: duels for subjugation, bar brawls, and accidental, er, unintentional, well, not-meant-to-happen-at-that-moment demon calling.
Drinking from other master vampires, turning new vampires without permission, and reliving your first kiss, which happened to be with a serial killer are absolutely inappropriate.
Having your demon-vampire-husband-master end up with an incurable case of vamnesia adds another level of complexity to the festivities, not to mention your marriage.
But Eva Prim has caused...experienced…survived, yes, that's the word. Eva and Stefan have survived other difficult challenges and she's confident they'll laugh about this some night. She thinks. Maybe.
And the Master will rule them all with a swift and firm hand… And probably the threat of The Book, too. But that’s just my guess. Chapter One The lights flicker. A gust of wind whooshes through the office. Someone howls an eerie cry, and my heart picks up speed.
"I got one! I got one!" I hop up and down once before being firmly held in place by three sets of hands.
"Hold steady." Stefan stands behind me, his entire body is firm as marble, molded around mine like a protective casing. "Do not falter, my flower. Steady." His heavy Greek accent gives away his nerves.
"I got this. You're crowding me." I try to wiggle free, but that's like trying to loosen a straitjacket. "Will you give me some space?"
"Don't do it," Martin says. He and Cheng, Stefan's long-time demon-hunting partners, crowd closer, leaving not one inch of my body unprotected. "I knew this was a bad idea." He grunts.
Cheng hisses at a demonic voice laughing behind him. "I still think we should have waited until after the Centennial Celebration."
"That's months away. I'm not waiting." I twist sideways, only able to move a few inches. "And this is going just fine. I'm doing a great job." A natural demon caller, that's what I am.
Something crashes into a wall and more laughter follows.
"You're making it impossible for me to see what I'm doing." I push against their chests, but no one moves. "Really? Really? You call this a lesson?"
"You do not need to see what you're doing. Just focus on your chant," Stefan says. His voice has held the same agitated tone all night. "Start again."
I huff and tap my foot to the beat of “Roar” by Katie Perry. "Come to me demon. Shoe-zing your master. You're gonna kneel on the floor. Oh. Oh. Oh."
"No!" all three of them shout.
Just as quickly as it started the pandemonium in the office dies, and the three men step away from me.
"You'll never get this if you don't memorize the chant," Martin says.
"Darling, why do you insist on chanting to popular tunes?" Stefan turns me to face him. "Is it not enough that I've given you the words? Why must you put a beat to them?"
I want to answer but I'm a bit surprised at what I see. The office is a complete disaster. Furniture is literally upended. Lights have been smashed. The mirror behind the bar is shattered.
And all three men look like they've just walked through a war zone.
Stefan's long black hair is a wild mess. His forehead has a bruise, and his shoulder is bleeding.
Martin's shirt is shredded and falls to the floor when he leans to set the couch onto its feet. Bulging welts mar his back. He is the blackest man I've ever met. I'm pretty sure he's also the biggest. He's damn close to seven feet tall and everything from his hair to his skin to his clothing is black as night. But those welts are red and puffy.
Cheng's braid still hangs perfectly straight, kept in place by the long silver blade he's stashed inside. His clothes, however, are ruined, giving a clear view of the claw marks running down his back.
I scratch my head. "Well, it's just that I have a hard time remembering the demon babble so a beat sort of helps."
You'd have a hard time, too. The words sound ridiculous. Shoe-zing?
Cheng's eyes bulge. "How many times do we have to do this before you believe that your tune is what's pissing off these damn demons?" He rips the rest of his shirt off and uses it to dab at a gash in his side.
Martin glides behind the bar, righting bar stools as he goes. "Demons, for the most part, are simple creatures. They like simple things. They know the demon call and will respond to it if it's done in the appropriate way." When he reaches for a bottle of blood on a high shelf, his dreadlocks tumble over his shoulder. He's lost about a foot off each thick coil on his left side, making his hair completely lopsided. Cheng looks away, suddenly interested in a magazine lying open on the floor.
Stepping around Stefan, I do a quick check of his hair and find it's all still hanging in the back. "Martin, your—" Stefan shakes his head.
"Darling, from now on just say the words in a low, even chant. Please." His fingers capture my chin and his lips come to mine for a quick peck. "Your singing voice is not…it's not your strongest suit."
Cheng lets out a low whistle.
"Fine! I was just trying to make the damn demons feel welcome." I collapse onto the couch and prop my feet on the coffee table.
"Yeah, well, you are not Mariah Carey." Martin places a glass for each of us on the table and opens the bottle. "Just hearing the chant in a low, even tone will make them happier."
"I'm asking one of them. When I finally call one, I'm asking if my singing voice is that bothersome." I slug back my drink. "It's not like I had to go through all this to get the last ones."
Stefan sits at his desk and sighs. "Need we remind you of what happened with the last two?"
I turn up my nose at them. The last two had to be "dealt with" by the three of them because as it turns out not all demons are pleasant. Go figure. "No." I stand back up.
Demon calling is not only an art, but a true "calling." Not everyone can do it. At least that's what they keep telling me. My "hidden" talent came out in the open last year when I accidentally (and it was an accident) released forty demons from The Demon Book.
I've been allowed to keep a few. Plus there are about six more still on the run that these three don't seem to be able to catch without my help. I'm keeping them, too, if we ever finally catch them.
I stretch my arms up over my head and out to my sides. "Want to go again?"
No one bothers to look in my direction. Stefan mumbles some sort of Greek-ish demon saying and sits back in his seat. The other two hunters laugh. "I don't know what you said, but it better have been 'Yes.'" I cram my hands on my hips.
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A few years back Jordan received a copy of Twilight from her husband as part of her anniversary gift. By the end of that week she’d read the entire series and moved onto Anne Rice’s Vampire Chronicles. Eight weeks and eighteen vampire books later the idea for her first book, Perpetual Light came to her followed very quickly by Eva Prim.
In April of 2014 Prim & Proper, the second Eva Prim Novel becomes available. Also available are The Demon Mistress, the first Eva Prim Novel along with four short stories. For continual updates on Eva please join the Snack Of The Week Club at www.evaprim.com.
Jordan is a member of the national Romance Writers of America organization and several chapters.
When she’s not writing about one vampire or another Jordan enjoys spending time with her husband, Ken and their lovable Labrador, Dino on the beautiful beaches of New England.
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