Happy Holidays!

High Clearance Sprayer

We at Just Ink Press would like to wish you a wonderful holiday season and a fantastic new year! To celebrate this fabulous winter wonderland-filled atmosphere, we’re giving away DUSK OF DEATH this weekend, Dec. 24 and 25. on Amazon Kindle.

Click the title, check it out below, and enjoy the holidays!

Demons, detectives, and a forensic scientist who has fallen from Hell.
Hell wants her back.

Let the demon hunt begin.

When Armen Leza fell from Hell, demon hunting was the last thing on her mind, but when all Hell breaks loose, this Fallen is humankind’s only hope for salvation.

Armen feels alone in her flesh. She can hear things unheard by humans, scent out the gut-churning stench of evil, and see the shades that lurk in the shadows, but if there is one thing she knows for certain, it’s that demons lie.

When her past keeps rearing its ugly head, Armen and Phoenix P.D. Detective Terry Armstrong must face an apocalyptic event that will throw this world into the Darkness forever, leaving the fate of all humanity in the hands of the malevolent. Getting the truth out of demons can be murder, and Armen must do so before they succeed in extinguishing the Light.


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He shook his head. “I am not letting you off that easy, Armen. Some weird shit happened down there. Who’s this Sariel, and what the fuck does he want?”

She sucked in a breath through clenched teeth and slammed her hand on the table. “Don’t say his name!”

He ignored her warning. “If this Sariel is killing people, I want to know why.”

“No, you really don’t, and if you insist on saying his name like it’s just a name, I’ll have to ask you to leave. Oh wait, I already did!”

He stared at her for a long moment. Too long, in her opinion. “Talk to me. Tell me what it wants. How do we fight it?”

A chill seeped into the kitchen. “I guess you’re about to find out.”

Terry shivered and ran his hands over his arms. “Why is it suddenly cold in here?”

“Don’t take notice of it,” she whispered. “Call your cab and go home.” She certainly couldn’t fight the bastard with Terry around. Of course, the bum leg might be an issue.

“I am not leaving you here alone after what happened tonight.”

God, the man was just as stubborn as she was. “Just go, Terry,” she said softly, shivering. “Leave, now.” A faint cry from the depths of Gehenna made Armen jump in her chair. She hadn’t heard a cry like that since she became flesh.

“What was that?” Terry turned in his chair, scanning the rooms.

Armen gaped again. “You heard that? How could you—” It suddenly dawned on her that, because of what he witnessed earlier, he would now hear and see things usually undetectable to the human mind. “Shit.” Wonderful, she’d inadvertently brought a human into her screwed up world.

“Azel,” a faint whisper came.

“Fuck off,” she said, and her head snapped to the side. “Go away!”

“What the hell’s going on?” Terry moved closer to her.

“Forsaken one.” The voice grew stronger.

“Not in my home,” Armen demanded.

“Armen, you need to tell me what’s happening.” Terry forced her to look at him.

She stared into his eyes, unblinking. “It’s him. He’s back.”


“You said his name.”

“What? It’s just a—”

“Name? Really?”

“If just saying their name summons them, why doesn’t it happen more often?”

She grabbed his wrist. “Because you’re aware of them now. Otherwise, you’d have to do an actual incantation spell.”

“So does the other name—?”

“No. That one doesn’t work the same.” She rose to her feet to face the demon entering her home. “Good job, brilliant actually, except we’re not ready for him.”

“Not here, not you, not me,” Terry growled.

“Oh yes here, yes her, and yes you.” Sariel materialized in her living room. He took on a more human form this time, long black hair cascading down his back and fire red eyes. His flesh seemed surreal, unearthly, and didn’t shift right when he moved to look at one of her paintings. “Oh, I do love Goya. He captured Death so well.”

“Sariel, I’m warning you,” Armen threatened as she grabbed her cane and stepped forward, pulling herself from Terry’s grasp.

“Armen, no.” He stepped up behind her. His voice was too calm for a man facing a demon for the second time in one night. It made her wonder what exactly Terry had seen in his lifetime.

Sariel craned his head around to view them, and with one swift motion, his entire body turned to face them. He smiled. Even that held pure evil within it.

“Warning me?” Sariel asked lightly. “Oh, you amuse me, Azel.”

“Get out of my house!”

“I shall not. Your protections are not very strong, Azel. You should take better care of them.” With a snap of his fingers, her protections vanished.

“Believe me, as soon as I get you out of here, I will.”

“That is to assume I shall leave this place,” he replied. “And that you shall still be in a position to do so.” His lips twisted, baring teeth not of human form, sharp and pointy—every damn one of them. “How is the gift I gave you?”

“It’s just fine, thank you,” Armen said.

Sariel laughed. “It will not be for long.”

The cuts burned. Deep. She tried to take the pain he gave her, tried to push it back. Armen shrieked, her hand flying to her cheek. Her knees buckled, and she dropped to the floor. Terry knelt beside her to help her, and she didn’t bother to slap his hands away this time. The pain consumed her.

“Where is their precious Savior now, Azel? Where has He been when I have claimed those souls? Where is He for you, if you are within the Light once more?”

“Go back to Hell,” Armen seethed through her pain.

He laughed again. “Do you like the pain these humans endure? I, myself, find it rather intriguing how much one can bear. It has been quite . . . entertaining.”

Terry struggled to pull Armen up. “Leave her alone.”

Sariel searched his eyes. “Ah, you have a knight, my sweet. Is he willing to take your pain from you?”

Terry sneered at the demon. “You heard the woman, go back to Hell.”

Sariel’s laughter echoed around them.

Armen forced herself to sit up, glaring at Sariel as he made a move to harm the man at her side. “You can’t touch him.” She bit back the pain that burned through her flesh.

Sariel’s eyes brightened as he studied Terry. He lifted his arms and said, “I do not have to touch, Azel.” Flames erupted over his body and spread to the floor.

Armen struggled to get to her feet, pushing herself up with the cane. “You bastard.” She grabbed Terry and pushed him backwards. “Outside, now!”

Terry stumbled back and grabbed her arm, opened the front door, and pushed her out as Sariel’s flesh melted away. For a brief moment, when Armen looked back, she saw the same demon from the warehouse. Then Terry yanked her out the door and carried her down the stairs as her condo went up in flames.

Again, Happy Holidays and happy reading! Pick up your copy of Dusk of Death HERE.


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