Dance with the devil ebook Dance with the Devil eBook: Merabeth James: Kindle Store. Tom Holloway and his Southern friends are excited about their prospects in joining the war effort, but the only thing they know of battle is what they've read about. Read "Dance With the Devil A Dark-Hunter Novel" by Sherrilyn Kenyon available from Rakuten Kobo. Sign up today and get $5 off your first download. Zarek's.

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Dance With The Devil Ebook

Less Than Three Press, LLC | LGBT+ Queer Romance Books Dance with the Devil [Ebook] [] - Even in a world of secrets and misfits, Chris. Dance with the Devil has 16 entries in the series. Dance with the Devil (Series). Megan Derr Author (). cover image of Dance with the Devil. Dancing With the Devil by Keri Arthur. Read an Excerpt download the Ebook: Kobo · Barnes & People Who Read Dancing With the Devil Also Read. ‹ › Brave the.

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He spoke quietly and deliberately about it to my sister as I pretended to be asleep on the couch. I was about seven years old, but the tone of his voice has stayed with me my entire life. He told her of the Christmas holiday of The snow was two feet deep along the driveway and icicles hung from the rain gutters on their old house on Sylvan Lane in Carmel, Indiana. Sometime after midnight he heard the upstairs phone ring.

My father stood in his bedroom doorway, watching his mother, in her light-blue nightgown, make her way through the dark hallway and pick up the black Mountain Bell receiver to hear the horrible news: My dad stood silently as his mother collapsed to her knees, wailing uncontrollably. I believe we all have these moments that change us forever, moments when life hurls baseball-sized hail onto the glass ceiling that is our innocence, and everything that is naive and good becomes tarnished and broken.

When the devil comes to steal our hope and faith. I wonder now which was worse for him, losing his brother or watching his mother shrivel in pain and despair in the months that followed? Thankfully for my dad, he used his juggernaut of emotions to springboard himself into the knowledge that he wanted more out of life. He found release, peace, challenge, and comfort within the confines and rules of the game of basketball.

Methodically throwing basketball after basketball into a hoop has always been his therapy, and the court became his sanctuary. He wanted success and the safety of a strong household for the family—as if anything can truly make a household safe. He wanted to equip his children in the ways of the Lord and create a trauma-free environment for them, and he was determined to do so.

He would support and nurture the people he loved. There is an old saying about marriage: My parents were from different sides of the tracks but complemented each other. She possessed a worldly charm that his family could never afford.

He deliberately spent the first nine months of their courtship trying to impress her. He took her to lovely dinners and ballroom dancing, sent her weekly bouquets of roses, and attended Sunday service with her at church. Their first child, Lisa, was born almost exactly nine months later. When my eldest sister, Lisa, was born, my mother gave up nursing to be a stay-at-home mom and basketball wife.

There was no time for the man who called the plays for six-foot-two college prospects to be changing diapers, and some would have considered it downright inappropriate.

But I believe my dad would have done anything that my mother asked him to do. At five foot one, she is a powerful force. Nothing comes between them. Even to this day they are a united front. No job, game, in-laws, child, temptation, or catastrophe can break their bond. They lived what they taught us from the good book: So they are no longer two, but one flesh.

Therefore what God has joined together, let no one separate. For better or worse. They shared a deep love for each other and God and regularly read the Bible to us kids.

Dancing for the Devil

Joshua They wanted us to be good, grounded Christians. My mother was the one saddled with the day-to-day responsibility of keeping the children in line. And up until I was born, she was doing a pretty good job.

I am the youngest of four siblings. They were used to life being stable and controllable, with their well-behaved ducklings walking neatly in a row. Quack, quack, quack. First there was my sister Lisa. She has always held the role of mini-mom in our sibling hierarchy. My brother, Bob Jr. Bob Jr. Despite our eight-year age difference, the two of us got into heaps of trouble.

Hard To Dance With the Devil On Your Back

We both carry the crazy-competitive daredevil gene. Then there was my sister Kristin. Born in , she is the sensitive and introverted one who is embarrassed by half of the stuff that flies out of my mouth. He had made the recruiting trip himself, as he wanted to see firsthand the coach who was turning out incredible defensive players. My mom told me about the General sitting next to her during a game as she kept her statistics board on her lap and methodically jotted down the details of points accrued and passes and fouls for my father.

She also understood that having this particular man sitting next to her was no coincidence. She believed that God had a plan for our family. The two coaches quickly became friends.

The coach known as the General was none other than Bob Knight. He would eventually leave the army for Indiana University. A few seasons into his tenure at Indiana, the General found himself at our dinner table, as he had many times before, but this time, while my mother served them lasagna, Coach Knight had come to speak to my father about his next job.

My father liked Coach Knight because he was black-and-white like my dad. There were no gray areas when it came to right and wrong. There was just good and there was evil. Winners and losers.

Both men were intense virtuosos. I like that. I had a rare moment of one-on-one with Dad recently and used it to talk about the thing that we both love and is a safe subject: I asked him why he took the job at IU. Everyone in that day wanted to coach with Bob Knight. Your dad bet on himself and the talent that God had provided him. A few years later, my father was a well-known assistant coach who had his own radio show in Bloomington, which was unheard- of for an assistant.

Coach Knight was steadily becoming a college basketball icon at Indiana University. The Hoosiers were incredibly dominant, going undefeated for the regular season as well as sweeping the NCAA Tournament and taking home the National Basketball Championship trophy by crushing Michigan. My father learned from a man some would say is the best college basketball coach in history.

Coach Knight and my father were winners. Winning was part of my early education and was modeled by the men around me. After the championship, my father was a sought-after commodity for vacant head coaching jobs. Athletic directors from around the country strolled through the tan shag carpeting in our small living room and sat on our flowered tapestry couches to woo my dad with promises of big money, radio shows, cars, private schools for us kids, and big bonuses for signing on the dotted line.

He had his pick of head coaching positions, which is rare at the collegiate coaching level. Make no mistake, however: Talon was liberated from hunting vampires and other demonic creatures who stalked the earth looking for hapless victims.

Dance with the Devil by Cherry Adair

He knew the betrayal Zarek felt and it gnawed inside him. Better than anyone, he understood what it meant to be left completely alone, to survive on instinct and to have only enemies around him. She lay across her ivory colored throne that had always reminded him of an overstuffed lounge chaise. It was decadent and soft, a pure study in hedonistic delight. Artemis was nothing if not a creature of comfort. She smiled languidly as she rolled over onto her back.

Her white, gauzy peplos displayed more of her body than it covered and as she moved, her entire lower half was bared to him.

"dance with the devil"

Uninterested, he lifted his gaze to hers. She trailed a hot, lustful glance over his body that was bare except for the tight black leather pants he wore. Satisfaction gleamed in her bright green eyes while she toyed with a strand of his long blond hair that covered the bite wound on his neck.

She was well fed and content to be with him. He was neither. Besides, your two weeks with me have only begun. Where is the subjugation you promised? He braced his arms on each side of her and lowered himself until their noses were almost touching. Her eyes widened a degree, just enough to let him know that in spite of her words, she knew which of them was the more powerful, even while weakened.

I mean it. I want him caged. End of symphony. The moment his picture became the nightly news event while he was killing Daimons, he exposed all the Dark-Hunters to danger. I wanted him killed and you refused. But so far, none of them had cooperated. Damn free will anyway. It got all of them into more trouble than any of them needed.

She narrowed her eyes at him. She made his concern for one of his men sound obscene. Of course she was good at that. What he felt for Zarek was kindred brotherhood. Knew why Zarek struck out in anger and frustration. There were only so many kicks a dog could take before it turned vicious. Not like this. If Thanatos or the Squires killed Zarek, then Zarek would become a bodiless Shade who was doomed to walk the earth for eternity.

Forever hungry and suffering. Forever in pain. Ash winced at the memory. Unable to stand the thought of it, he headed for the door. She hovered effortlessly to his right. In this incarnation, her wings were dark blue and black, even though she usually preferred burgundy for them. The darker color of the wings combined with the color of her eyes told him just how unhappy Simi was to find herself here on Olympus. Her eyes were white, rimmed in red and her long yellow-blond hair floated around her.

She had black horns that were more beautiful than sinister and long pointed ears. Her flowing red dress wrapped around her lithe, muscular body that she could mold into any size from one inch to eight feet tall in human form or as large as eighty feet as a dragon.

I get to make the red-headed goddess mad! Personally, I think it would be interesting to see just how long your Thanatos would last against my Simi. Her voice was quiet, but powerful and filled with a sing-sing quality that was quite musical in tone.

Just tell me how you want him, akri, normal recipe or extra crispy. They crunch louder when deep fried. Reminds me I need some bread crumbs. Zeus forbid it should ever go out into the human world alone.

What are thinking? Definitely some oven mitts, cause he gonna be hot from being flame-broiled. I need to get a couple of them apple trees so I can have some chips so that the meat be nice and appleley tasting. I forbid it. I taught her to waste not, want not.

Eat everything except for hooves. I get a Daimon for barbecue. Can I go now, akri? Can I? Can I please? Ash stared at Artemis. He lives or dies by your word. She sounded as if she were in pain. She never let me have no fun. She a mean goddess! Her eyes smoldered with barely leashed fury. All I ask is that you have Themis judge him. If her judge finds that Zarek is a danger to those around him, then I will send Simi after him myself to end his life. The two of them had never been able to stand each other.

Finally, Artemis looked back at him. I will have Thanatos stand down, but after Zarek is judged guilty, I will send Thanatos in to finish him. I am a Simi. I hate it when you get me all excited that I can go kill something and then tell me no.

It boring. The demon pouted and then flew to the left side of his body and returned to his arm in the shape of a stylized bird on his biceps.

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