Irena is angry, angry, angry.

I haven’t written a character like this before. It’s an interesting balance — because her anger can’t always come out violently and she can’t always be surly, or it would be hard to care about her romance or her story (I think angry heroes have it easier than angry heroines). So it’s shaping a lot of her humor, too.

Anyway, here’s a snippet from DEMON DAWN. Irena’s in Rome, and she’s just been propositioned by a drunk. 

Irena’s breath hissed from between her teeth in a thin stream. This one, he did not know when to quit. She halted in front of him and bent over to grip the arms of his chair. Her smile was still vicious, but he didn’t glance at her face. Unease slithered through his psychic scent as he took in the winding blue serpents tattooed from her wrists to her shoulders.

“You are a handsome man,” she told him, and didn’t attempt to suppress the accent that chopped at her Italian, “but you use your tongue in the wrong way.” Irena crooked her index finger beneath his necklace. Gold. Such a worthless metal. Far too soft, even when blended with stronger materials. Irena favored steel, iron, or platinum. She tugged lightly on the chain. “Stand, and I will show you what your mouth is good for.”

Like a dog, he obeyed. Her fingers drifted down over his chest as he rose from his seat, and she shape-shifted subtly, increasing her height so that his tobacco-scented breath gusted heavily over her lips. His breathing stopped when she reached the waistband of his tight jeans, and she paused to test his emotions. There was fear in him, but also lust.

And this one had no resistance to lust. Even as he hardened beneath her hand, his arousal left him as malleable as gold. Left him easily manipulated. Demons loved humans such as these.

Irena did not.

She dragged her fingertip up his brass zipper, and her Gift melded the teeth together.