giving gifts to human hosts #UrbanFantasy @naomi_jay @evernightpub

Like the quote
says, sometimes you have to write the book you want to read. When I
first came up with the idea for the Deva Chronicles, several years
ago now, I was looking for something in the urban fantasy field that
didn’t revolve around the Big Three – vampires, werewolves, and
witches. I’m not saying it wasn’t already out there. I just couldn’t
find it. I can’t quite remember now where I stumbled across the Hindu
concept of devas and their malevolent brothers, the asuras, but it
was just too great a piece of mythology not to write about.
I admit I’ve
taken some liberties with the myth, but the basic idea of the nature
spirits, the devas, versus the aggressive asuras is at the core of it
all. With the devas and asuras able to give particular gifts to their
human hosts (like Ryan’s ability to cloak herself in shadows), the
stage is set for supernatural carnage! Hopefully the sneak peek below
gives you an idea of what’s in store in the Deva Chronicles…
Ryan’s past isn’t just haunting
her. It’s trying to kill her.



Ryan McCarthy fled Kimberlyn
Island, her father, and her lover six years ago, desperate to build a
life away from the weird science and supernatural experiments of her
childhood. But everything she hoped to escape comes back with a
vengeance when she’s kidnapped and tortured by a possessed madman out
for revenge on the man responsible for his possession: Ryan’s father.




Now, reunited with the lover
she abandoned, Ryan is forced back into a world of danger and
darkness she no longer understands, pursued by enemies with powers
she can’t fathom. But Ryan’s not entirely powerless herself. She’ll
have to use every trick she knows—as well as the mystic gift she
hates—to stay ahead of those enemies. And that will be easier said
than done.

“Ryan!
Open the door, Ryan!” Irving shouted. “I’ve got a present for
you!”
“Stay
here,” Jackson told me, tone allowing no argument. He crept down
the hall towards the door, metal hand curled into a fist. Tendrils of
red hot energy rolled off him, his deva preparing for battle. My own
deva, long suppressed, stirred sluggishly within me, its energy cool
and dark.
My
body remembered too well how to use its power now. Shapeshifting
earlier had woken the old skills, and it was almost painless now for
me to tug at the shadows in the kitchen and wrap them around me so I
disappeared. Jackson looked back at me and started. “Ryan?” he
whispered.
“Get
the door,” I shot back, my voice sounding disembodied and tinny.
Irving was still hammering, screaming my name.
I imagined the asura inside him spurring him on, urging him to
violence. To kill and torture and maim. I watched Jackson’s back as
he stole towards the door, thought of the chaos deva inside him, and
wondered how different the two entities really were. Devas were
supposed to be the good to the asuras’ evil, but that was a human
idea, wasn’t it? Morality, right and wrong…What did those things
have to do with supernatural beings?
Jackson
reached the door just as the wood split, a long pale crack appearing
in the varnished oak. I trembled at the strength that must have
taken. I’d been lucky earlier to escape Irving with relative ease
and only a few scars to show for it. He could have snapped me in
half.

Jackson
grasped the door handle and wrenched the door open. Metal shrieked as
locks and bolts snapped. Wood flew from the frame in splinters and
chips. Amber light flooded the hall from the street lamp outside,
gleaming off his metal hand and bathing Irving a sickly yellow color.
He clasped a knife in one hand.
Irving stumbled back at the sight of Jackson
in the doorway, his crazed eyes wide. There was a split second where
neither man moved, then they exploded into action. Irving screamed
and threw himself at Jackson, blade flashing as he struck.

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About
the Author
Naomi likes writing, perfume,
fancy tea, and unfathomable monsters from the dark spaces between the
stars, not necessarily in that order. She has been writing stories
ever since she learned how to write, but is still trying to master
the art of biography writing. When she’s not dealing with werewolves,
demons, or sea monsters, she’s hanging out with her cat and probably
watching a documentary about Bigfoot. If the cat isn’t available,
she’s with her fiancé watching cookery shows and silently plotting
her next book.
Find
me online:
Twitter
– @naomi_jay
 
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