Must Love Death

Title: Must Love Death
Series: Sisters of the Apocalypse Series #3
Published by: Self-Pub
Release Date: 2018
Pages: 391
ISBN13: 978-1-7750206-5-3

Death can’t see you right now. She’s starting an apocalypse.

The Death clan isn’t winning any popularity contests in small town Beckwell, and as the third horsewoman to rise, Nia Amort is destined to be the biggest and baddest of them all. Her powers so far have been few and far between. Mostly dead people, dead people, and more dead people. But the Fates and the gods are out to kill her, a soul devourer stalks her dreams, and she owes Loki way too many favors. Worst of all, if she doesn’t gain her abilities soon, she’s going to lose her daughter all over again.

Ex-cop Mal Quilan is used to being the bad guy, growing up in the shadow of his perfect twin, and judged for his Fomorian, half-demon bloodlines. But he’s always had a soft spot for Nia, and when he’s given the chance to protect her until she can rise as Death, he takes it. Sure, he’ll have to ignore the old feelings she arouses in him, and there’s a high likelihood of his own death. But maybe, there’s a chance for redemption too … if the gods don’t kill them first.

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Nia refused to notice in any way how her hands caressed hard stomach muscle beneath the buttery leather of Mal’s jacket and through the soft cotton of his shirt, the rumble of the engine and the road purring between her legs. She sure as shit didn’t notice Mal’s delicious spicy scent. Nope. Not her. Because he didn’t matter, and she’d get rid of him as soon as the first good plan presented itself. Some way he could call it off, so she wouldn’t owe Loki her ass.

As soon as they pulled into her broad grassy yard, bare trees standing sentry around the perimeter, she barely gave Mal time to stop before she hopped off the bike. She hadn’t touched his bare skin, but even the contact they’d had left her with Mal’s essence—the shape, color, and feel of his soul.

She rubbed her hands up and down her thighs as though she could rub off the feel of him. Damn if he didn’t feel like a harder, stronger version of the boy he’d been. A man with some darkness around the edges, but a deep, yearning, worthy glow. The sign of a man who wanted to do better.

The kind of man she needed to stay the hell away from in case the warmth of him and yearning got too attractive. Happy endings might be great for her friends, but not for her. That’s part of what made happily ever afters special—not everyone got or deserved one.

Especially not her.