More to come...but to whet your appetite, here's a little taste.
Q: Please tell our readers about the characters you've created in your upcoming novel, Demonic Persuasion.
A: Born of a Navajo healer and high level prince of Hell, The Dine Gods demanded Fatal be turned over to her mother's tribe to learn their healing arts and kept away from demon hands. But with her tutelage, came cruel segregation and disrespect because of her father's heritage. Unknowing why her life has suddenly come under demon attack, Fatal sets out, armed with her knowledge and her fighting skills, to take out any evil that gets in her way.
Prince of a lower Hell level, a contract was signed in blood that Orobus be betrothed to Fatal, daughter of High Price of Hell’s half-breed daughter. Oracle by birth, he isn’t privy to complete visions when regarding him. Having forgotten the fateful night he signed the agreement, he’s thrust into the fight of his life—the fight to claim his woman! Come Hell or High water, he will take care of what is rightfully his, even if it means making her face both sides of her heritage and teaching her there is no shame.
Q. I was wondering, what inspired you to create a story with a darker edge in the book, Demonic Persuasion?
A. Merikano's Fury, available online at Exstasy Books, was my first manuscript. Implied Prophesies: Demonic Persuasion Book One was my second, and Embrace the Moment, my third. Merikano's Fury and Demonic Persuasion were written a year prior to Embrace The Moment but needed extensive work.
I've always written on the dark side, creating worlds or realms of my own to play in. Demonic Persuasion came about out of a need to show how being of mixed cultures can be both a blessing and a curse, trying to figure out where to blend in and where you fit. Adding in different realms increased that key factor of personal and spiritual growth prompting a need for a lifemate to show the way.
Indigo Skye: Ink and Art Welcomes
Author Mahalia Levey!
And now, the moment you've all been waiting for... an excerpt from Mahalia Levey's upcoming release, coming soon from Liquid Silver Books.
By Mahalia Levey
Exiled. From the only home she’d ever known. After the first set of demons came to Fatal’s tribal lands, Sani, her grandfather and the Dine God of the Navajo, ordered her to leave permanently. Head held high, she packed her few belongings and left, determined to live her life on her own terms.
New experiences would be good for her, Fatal told herself while barhopping from Broadway to Westport Road, hoping to find the perfect atmosphere. A niggling itch under her skin kept her alert for possible trouble lurking in the shadows, but the cool metal caressing the inside of her thighs reminded her protection lay within arm’s reach. She never knew when a new set of demons would pop into her life and resented the intrusion she was forced to endure.
As she ambled down the darkened streets, she moved with a sense of ease, gaining blatant glances or admiring stares. She knew she was breathtaking, however bad omens had few friends, no dates, and no boyfriends. People in her hometown hadn’t hesitated to ask her for advice, or to chant with them when it suited their needs. She lived in solitude, with the exception of her occasional visits from her grandfather Sani, and Taima her mentor. She pushed her musings aside and moved through an alleyway that broke off to the next major street.
Silence surrounded her. She turned to head south when something caught her eye. Intrigued, she meandered down a side street and came to a demonic-looking, gargoyle-protected, granite structure. An eerie blood-red sign hung above thick vault doors with the words “Demonic Persuasion” in black paint. She’d heard of the club that catered to just about anyone’s needs and decided to get in line. Reaching the final steps to the entrance of the club, Fatal flashed a smile at the doorman and waited for him to move.
"The fee’s ten bucks."
Digging in her boot, her gaze strayed to the bunched biceps peaking out of his black tee-shirt, roving over his cut physique. Slapping cash into his hand, she smiled. "Happy now?”
"I’ll be when you check your weapons, if it's even possible for you to have any hidden underneath your black corset and micro miniskirt.”
"Oh, you’d be surprised what one can hide against near-naked skin. My name’s Ackchetta, most call me Fatal." She smirked and hiked up her skirt. Buried between her thighs were two small blades. Thin metal stars she'd hidden on her hipbones slid into her palms without effort. Flashing an annoyed expression, she dropped them in his outstretched hand. "There you go, I want them back though."
"The one behind your back too, sweet stuff."
His droll expression did nothing to alleviate the feeling of nakedness without her weaponry. "Aren't you going to be polite and tell me your name?"
Anger set in. She smoothed her hands over her short skirt and adjusted her scant top. Her hackles rose when he spun her around and tapped the slender blade. “No one said you could touch!” She let out a growl and removed the extra-slim blade hidden under her corset top.
"My club, my rules. No fighting, no weapons, and no magic, if--you know any."
"Since you’re scared of a small thing like me, I think I can behave myself for a few hours.”
He sent a dazzling smile her way and then turned to a young woman. Dropping her weapons into an outstretched hand, he whispered into the sleek brunette woman’s ear.
Fatal narrowed her eyes. "It's rude to whisper."
"Follow Marzena, she'll take you to the weaponry hold and issue you a ticket."
“I still didn’t catch your name.”
Rude and hot. About to turn away, her breath hitched when the shimmering tattoos sprang to life on his skin. From head to toe he was a sight to behold. Long black hair touched his shoulders. His blue eyes sparkled when he smiled. Thick muscles bunched with every movement. Long legs encased in black trousers, muscular thighs brought a silent moan of want to her lips. She’d never wanted like this. She stole a look at his goatee and wondered how it’d feel scraping across her face, his breath on her mouth before he kissed her with the same intensity he stared at her with. She’d do anything to feel those lips on hers, to touch the once-broken, too-many-times-healed nose...
Author Notes: You can view Mahalia's Author Site and blogs online at...
Mahalia Levy: The Decadent Side of Sin
Quackers and Tease