Sunday, January 22, 2012

Blog Tour: Demons of Infernum series by Rosalie Lario


Formally trained as a corporate and real estate lawyer, Rosalie Lario practiced law for 5 years before finally admitting to herself that negotiating contracts wasn’t nearly as fun as dreaming up stories. As an avid reader of romances and supernatural stories, she knew she wanted to write paranormal romance.  Tales of vampires, demons, and other supernatural beings ensued.

She’s currently hard at work on Call of the Siren, Book 4 of the Demons of Infernum series. The series features a group of sexy half demon brothers who live and work as inter-dimensional bounty hunters in modern-day New York City.

When Rosalie’s not writing, she enjoys spending time with her son, who she swears was born a sea creature in a prior life! From swimming to boating to simply enjoying the ocean, they make the most of their tropical (and oft stiflingly hot) climate.

Her current release is Touch of the Angel, Book 3 of the Demons of Infernum series. Here’s a bit about it:

After months of no work, inter-dimensional bounty hunter Ronin Meyers jumps at the chance to locate an incubus who’s using succubi as murder weapons. Faced with deportation to hellish Infernum if he fails, Ronin will stop at nothing to take out the incubus and anyone else involved. Even the beautiful succubus who stole his heart—and nearly his life—during the most mind-blowing hour of his existence.

Night after night, Amara and her fellow succubi are forced to extract special abilities from the strongest Otherworlders for their psychotic master’s growing collection. When the gorgeous angel-demon hybrid she believed to be dead captures her, Amara is both stunned and elated.

But the happily ever after Amara’s dreamed about will have to wait. Before she and Ronin can find salvation, they must bring down the madman hellbent on destroying everything—and everyone—they love. And Ronin and Amara are at the top of his list…

Heart of the Incubus, a novella based in the Demons of Infernum world, releases on January 3, 2012. Here’s more:

Biochemist Cresso Taylor lives the sort of lifestyle most men would envy—he has wealth, natural incubus charm, and more women than he can handle. But it’s not enough anymore. Not after meeting Genevieve Russell, the sexy scientist who works with him at Elcorp Laboratory. And she wants absolutely nothing to do with him.

After her fiancĂ© broke her heart, Genevieve has had enough of womanizers. She’s determined to steer clear of sexy-as-sin Dr. Taylor, despite the fact that his incubus allure makes her want to rip his clothes off. But when a secret admirer’s affection turns to the macabre with threatening notes and grisly gifts, Cresso appoints himself her protector. As she and Cresso hunt her stalker, she discovers there’s a lot more to the sensual incubus than she ever imagined.

Interested in learning more about the Demons of Infernum?
Click HERE for more information and Buy Links.

Feel free to contact Rosalie here: WebsiteTwitterFacebookEmail

Excerpt for Blood of the Demon (Book 1):

Wait a second... his face.
“Your nose, it’s healing.” She stumbled toward him, surveying him, then his brothers. Taeg’s and Dagan’s wounds weren’t disappearing, but Ronin... “You, too, your wounds are healing. How is—how is that possible?”
“Brynn, go back into the room,” Keegan ordered.
Keegan and Ronin could heal themselves? Amazing. No wonder they were so badass.
The large gash down the center of Keegan’s nose closed itself. Other than a few stray droplets of blood, his nose seemed untouched. She took another step toward him, but her foot collided with a hard object. She’d run into one of the downed men. She lifted her gaze back to Keegan.
Doing a double take, she stumbled backward to get a closer look at the figure of the man at her feet. No, he wasn’t a man. Not a man!
His characteristics were definitely male and his body mostly human, save the gray pallor of his skin. But his face—it was all wrong. Five eyes instead of two. Rhinoceros-like horn instead of a nose. Ridged spikes covered his forehead. His nauseating stench burned her nostrils, like a horrid mixture of wet dog and burning asphalt.
Warm hands gripped her arms, and someone shook her. “Brynn.
She looked into Keegan’s face. His lips moved, but she couldn’t hear him over the loud, shrill sound of an alarm.
He shook her harder. “Brynn, stop screaming!”
She realized with a start that he was right. Shutting her mouth abruptly, she moved her gaze back to the thing on the floor. She couldn’t help it.
“Look at me,” Keegan said, his voice harsh.
She focused on his eyes, his lips, his nose—his fully healed nose. When she found her voice again, she sputtered, “What the fuck is that thing?”
Another figure on the floor moaned and stirred. Taeg strode over and kicked him, and he stopped moving. But even from here, it was obvious he wasn’t human.
“What are they?” she whispered.
Keegan closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he reopened them, they blazed with the intensity of some unspoken emotion. Almost like he felt sorry for her. But when he spoke, all he said was, “Demons.”
“Demons?” She laughed. Then laughed some more. In some distant part of her brain, she recognized she bordered on hysteria. “Demons?”
Keegan just stared at her.
“Are you kidding me? Demons?
“You freely accept people with special abilities,” Ronin said as he moved next to Keegan and pinned her with his gaze. “Is it too much of a stretch to believe that demons might also exist?”
“Yeah, but... ” What were they going to tell her next, that aliens were real, too? “But I have special abilities.”
Dagan coughed. “You also have dem—”
“Dagan,” Keegan snarled, followed by a string of foreign words. Dagan yelled back before whirling around and stomping out the front door.
She concentrated on reading Keegan’s expression. “You actually expect me to believe those were demons?”
He nodded. “Yes.”
She took several deep, calming breaths. “How? How do you know all this? How can you tell me with such certainty that these are demons?”
He exchanged a serious, telling glance with Ronin before answering her. “Because, Brynn... I am one.”

Excerpt for Mark of the Sylph (Book 2):

      Taeg tightened his hold on her wrist until she dropped the dagger. He grabbed her other wrist and pinned it back. “Look at me.”
Yeah, apparently she wasn’t in an accommodating mood. Because instead of listening she jerked her knee up, catching him square in the junk.
“Ooof.” That freaking hurt.
He let go, hands automatically lowering to protect his goods, and she shoved hard on his chest. As he staggered several feet back, she spun and delivered a stunning roundhouse kick that almost had him admiring her form, right before it caught him in the side and sent him sprawling.
“What’s the deal, lady?”
She grabbed the knife and flew at him faster than he would’ve expected from a human.
Taeg shoved off the ground and sidestepped her attack, and recaptured her wrist. He yanked her arm up behind her as he maneuvered behind her back.
“Shit,” Maya cried. The knife clanged to the ground, and he loosened his hold a fraction.
“Stop. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Yeah. Right.” Her tone made it clear what she thought of that.
Pushing her to the nearest wall, Taeg turned her to face him. He kept one hand on her shoulder and the other on her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes.
“Calm down, Maya.” The familiar hum of energy in his ears told him his charm was doing its thing. “I’m not going to hurt you. I only want to ask you a few questions.”
Her scowl softened long enough for him to assume his power had worked. He let her go and backed up a few steps. “How do you know what I am? Can you see the real me?”
Rather than answering, she lifted a knee and slid one of her dainty hands into her boot. When she withdrew it, she clutched another dagger, a match to the one on the ground. Suddenly the reason for her boots became quite clear. The woman was a freakin’ walking arsenal.
“Oh, shit.”
She kicked off the wall and leapt into the air in a flying move that Jackie Chan would have envied, adjusting the grip on her dagger. Hand high in the air, she aimed for his neck. The woman was clearly determined to remove his head from the rest of his body. Taeg dropped his legs out from under him, hitting the ground hard.
Maya’s legs struck his back as she flew over him. He untangled himself and whirled around, but damn she recovered fast. She tossed her dagger to the side to avoid jabbing herself as she tucked and rolled. Then she jumped to her feet and faced him with both fists up. Her face was almost expressionless, her heavy panting the only indicator she was battling to the death. Damned if his interest wasn’t drawn to her ample chest beneath that tight black top.
She smiled, almost as if she were enjoying herself, and came at him with another kick.
He leapt back to avoid being hit. “Damn it, I’m trying to talk to you, lady.”

 Excerpt for Touch of the Angel (Book 3):

“Why me, of all people?”
She blinked at him. “What do you mean?”
“Why did you choose me out of all the men in that club?”
“I...don’t know.”
That answer wasn’t good enough. “I’m so what?”
Her brow wrinkled. “What?”
“Back in the living room. Before you said you couldn’t resist, you said that I was cut off before finishing. What was I?”
Amara gave him a half smile. “Too decent for me. I should have left you alone.”
Unable to help himself, Ronin reached out and traced her full lips.
She lost her smile, her mouth trembling at his touch. “You said that at the club. But I don’t think that’s what you were referring to.”
She shifted her head and his fingers fell to her neck. He stroked the tender flesh of her throat before forcing her to meet his eyes. “So what then? What did you think of me?”
A deep sigh lifted her chest, and it took everything he had not to drop his gaze. Damn but she turned him on. Partly because of what she was. But even more because of who she was. Something about her called to him. This wasn’t good. Yet he couldn’t stop himself from engaging her.
“What, Amara?” he asked when she didn’t respond.
A spark of challenge lit her eyes and she lifted her chin. “I thought you were delicious.”
The surprise of that word elicited a laugh from deep in the pit of his stomach. “Delicious?”
“Irresistible. Everyone else faded into the background when I saw you.”
He sobered. Devil, she sounded serious. For all he knew she was playing with him, toying with his emotions. As a succubus, that was sort of her specialty. But part of him wanted to believe her. Hell, if he had to be honest, all of him did.
“I still feel that way,” she whispered, moistening her lips.
Her words made him hard in an instant. He’d had difficulty controlling himself upon the mere sight of her back at Asmodeus’s house. Now, after this, he knew it would be impossible.
Don’t forget what she did to you. What she put you through. He was undoubtedly weaker now. No way he’d survive another round with her. This was dangerous.
Hell, he was about to do something incredibly stupid. But then, that seemed to be his M.O. when she was around.
Before he could second-guess himself, he hooked a hand around the back of her neck and yanked her forward, crushing his lips against hers.

Excerpt for Heart of the Incubus (Novella 3.5):

“That package.” He motioned toward the counter. “It’s for you.”
“It is? From whom?”
“Don’t know. Will says he found it by the door when he was doing his rounds.”
Cresso picked up the box and handed it to her. When she saw her name scribbled on the plain brown wrapping, a ribbon of dread curled through her chest, winding its way down to the pit of her stomach. She knew that handwriting. Every time she saw it, she got hit with a major case of acid reflux.
“Thanks.” Her voice sounded far away even to her own ears. She took the package from him and stared down at it, willing herself the strength to open it.
Cresso must have read her discomfort because he shifted in place, sliding a hand into the pocket of his slacks. “I suppose I’ll leave you to it, then.”
For the first time ever, she barely noticed him leaving. She set the box on the cold steel countertop and traced the wobbly letters on the smooth paper. Whoever had written them had dug in the pen so hard that it had left grooves in the wrapping. And how familiar those cursive scribbles had grown over the past several weeks. Letter upon letter, a total of six in her collection now. But never more than a single piece of paper. Never anything of this size before. And that made her really, really afraid.
Come on, Gen. It’s just a package. It can’t kill you. Right?
Once Cresso’s footsteps receded into the hallway, Genevieve took a fortifying breath. Hands shaking, she tore off the wrapping to reveal an indistinct shoebox underneath. Okay…okay. Maybe it was a new pair of shoes.
Yeah, right. And maybe the yummy Dr. Taylor has all of a sudden decided to lose the harem of women who come sniffing around here, volunteering to be his lab rats. Not freaking likely.
Oh hell, might as well get it over with. Willing her calm, clinical side to take over, she grabbed the box and lifted the lid. The cloying scent of formaldehyde drifted to her nose before she caught a glimpse of what was inside. When she saw what it was, she nearly jumped out of her skin. She dropped the shoebox and it thumped onto the polished concrete. The contents flew up, then plopped back into the box, landing in an eerily similar position to how they’d originally been placed.
Genevieve didn’t even realize she’d screamed until Cresso came racing back into the room. He moved so fast he was nothing but a blur, materializing right in front of her. His hands closed around her arms, fingers digging in painfully.
“What’s wrong?”
She opened her mouth to tell him, but nothing came out.
His mouth tightened and he examined her thoroughly, as if checking for cuts or chemical burns. “Dr. Russell, what is it?”
“I…” Was it crazy that even now she noticed the heat of his hands on her? When he lifted a finger to gently press her glasses back onto her nose, her mind went blank.
“Tell me what happened.”
Oh, right. The package.
Not trusting herself to do anything more than blabber, Genevieve pointed to the shoebox on the ground by their feet.
He saw what was inside it and released her with a muttered curse. Squatting, he pulled a pen out of the front pocket of his dress shirt and used it to push around the thing in the box.
When his eyes met hers, unmistakable anger had darkened them into two glittering black pearls. “It’s a skinned rat.”
“Who gave this to you?”
Genevieve shook her head, gagging at the sight of the poor mutilated animal. She covered her mouth with her hand. “I don’t know.”
Cresso dropped his pen into the box and stood, waves of tension radiating off his body. His hands clenched into fists. “Okay, Genevieve, you need to tell me what the hell is going on here.”

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