The Devil's Playground

by Black, Jenna

• ISBN13: 9780440244943
• ISBN10: 0440244943
• Format: Paperback
• Copyright: 2010-03-23
• Publisher: Dell

Summary

Morgan Kingsley, a kick-ass exorcist, can deal with Lugh, the supersexy demon living inside her, but does he have to moan softly during her intimate moments with her mortal lover? Understandably, Brian is reluctant to share the pleasures of Morganrs"s flesh with a gorgeous rogue from the Demon Realm. But personal matters will have to wait when the opportunistic owner of the Seven Deadlies demon club in Philadelphia enlists Morganrs"s help in heading off a crisis: It seems that demons have started showing up at the hot spot in alarming numbers and in the unwilling bodies of rough trade club-goers. Morgan is sure that Dougal, Lughrs"s sworn enemy, is behind this, but why? To find out, Morgan must summon every ounce of power at her command-or risk becoming just another casualty in an all-out demon war.

Author Biography

Jenna Black is a typical writer, which means she’s an “experience junkie.” She received B.A. degrees in physical anthropology and French from Duke University. She once dreamed of being the next Jane Goodall, until she realized that primates spend 80 percent of their time not really doing anything. She moved on to such pastimes as grooming dogs and writing technical documentation before creating the Morgan Kingsley series: The Devil Inside, The Devil You Know, The Devil’s Due, Speak of the Devil, and now The Devil’s Playground. Jenna Black lives in Pittsboro, North Carolina.

Excerpts

Chapter One



No one would have called my life normal even before I became the human host of Lugh, the demon king, who was embroiled in a mostly covert war for the throne. So the fact that I was beginning to think of my life as “normal” now could have been a cause for alarm. But hey, it had been more than two months since anyone had tried to kill me, torture me, or frame me for murder. These days, that was about as normal as it got.

The truth is, my life had settled into something that resembled a routine, and I was beginning to get pretty comfortable with it. Since I was no longer under suspension by the U.S. Exorcism Board, I spent time at my office almost every day. I performed an exorcism maybe once or twice a month, and there was enough paperwork and general office management to keep me busy for a couple hours a day. Not exactly a nine-to-five, but routine enough to lull me into something like complacency. Before I’d become Lugh’s host, I’d routinely done one or two exorcisms a week, but that required me to travel all around the country—something I couldn’t afford to do anymore. Lugh and all the members of his royal council on the Mortal Plain agreed—possibly a first—that it would be “unwise” for me to venture too far from home when a crisis could pop up at the drop of a hat.

After the disastrous exorcism of Jordan Maguire Jr., which had almost cost me my career and my freedom, I’d been on a lucky streak, with more hosts than usual coming out of the exorcisms with their minds intact. My lucky streak had just ended, however. I’d had an early morning exorcism—a teenaged boy with a face only a mother could love. When I’d cast out the demon who’d possessed him, he’d been catatonic. There was no way of knowing if he would ever snap out of it. I could still hear the mother’s heartbroken sobs when the authorities gave her the news.

Naturally, I was a bit depressed afterward. I went to my office and tried to bury myself in paperwork, but I wasn’t exactly being productive. So when someone knocked on my office door, I was glad for the interruption. Until said interruption opened the door at my invitation.

I hadn’t seen Shae, owner of The Seven Deadlies— a demon sex club that made my stomach curdle just thinking about it—in over two months, and that was just fine by me. I’d have been happy never to see her again in my entire life. She was a mercenary and a predator. She was also an illegal demon—one who’d taken an unwilling human host—and a snitch for Special Forces, the Philly police department’s demon-crime unit. I’d have loved nothing more than to exorcize her ass, but her status as a police snitch protected her.

I’m not what you’d call a conservative dresser—I love low-rise jeans and low-cut tops—but I could never compete with Shae for sheer flamboyance. If her tight white pants dipped any lower, she’d need a bikini wax to wear them, and her sheer red lace top made no attempt to hide the black bra she wore beneath. On most people, that outfit would have looked silly at best, and slutty at worst. On Shae, it reminded me of the plumage on a tropical bird, showy and exotic.

My first impulse was to tell her to get the hell out of my office, but I was getting better at this whole impulse-control thing. There was no way Shae was here on a social call, and I probably needed to hear what she had to say, whether I wanted to or not. I flashed her my best imitation of a welcoming smile.

“Well, this ought to be interesting,” I said. “Have a seat.” I gestured toward one of the chairs in front of my desk, then frowned theatrically. “If you’re capable of sitting down in those pants, that is. I wouldn’t want you mooning passersby.” Nev

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Excerpted from The Devil's Playground by Jenna Black
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