Angie Fox - The Dangerous Book for Demon Slayers

CRITICS PRAISE NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLING

AUTHOR ANGIE FOX AND

THE ACCIDENTAL DEMON SLAYER

With its sharp, witty writing and unique characters, Angie Foxs contemporary paranormal debut is fabulously fun.

Chicago Tribune

This rollicking paranormal comedy will appeal to fans of Dakota Cassidy, MaryJanice Davidson, and Tate Hallaway.

Booklist

A new talent just hit the urban fantasy genre, and she has a genuine gift for creating dangerously hilarious drama. Fox has created her own unique flavor of the supernatural, and its a weird one!

Romantic Times BOOKreviews

Foxs rollicking, paranormal romance is absolutely full of laugh-out-loud humor, heart-pumping action and uniquely quirky characters.

Romance Junkies

The Accidental Demon Slayer was an unexpected frolic filled with smart-mouthed geriatric witches, a talking terrier, and a drop-dead sexy griffin. I read this book in a day; it was hard to put down. Pick it up for yourself and see.

Night Owl Romance

In the ber popular genre of paranormal romance, just about everything has been done before, yet The Accidental Demon Slayer keeps it fresh and unique, carving out a place for itself.

CK2S Kwips and Kritiques

The Accidental Demon Slayer is a jackpot read for the paranormal lover. Angie Fox offers up a plethora of hardened yet screwball characters, wild and bizarre situations, spells and danger and powers galore, and lets not forget a simmering pot of sexual tension.

Once Upon a Romance

Filled with colorful characters, this is not a Buffy rip off. Its a fun romp with a definite hillbilly twang that will leave you in stitches. If this is the start of a series, readers have a lot of laughter to look forward to.

Eternal Night

Oh my, The Accidental Demon Slayer is a fun book! Angie Foxs world and adventures had me laughing as the vivid and hilarious scenarios got funnier and funnier.

Merrimon Book Reviews

The Accidental Demon Slayer is an entertaining ride.

Romance Reviews Today

Funny and action-packed with quirky details that make it a very interesting debut well worth a read.

The Book Smugglers

I raised my eyes to find the hunter watching me.

Moisture glistened on his lower lip, making his hard features arrestingly sensual. His amber eyes held an almost dazed quality, one of indulgence andif I read him rightsatisfaction.

He dipped his head slightly, in a courtly gesture of greeting, and leaned uncomfortably close. My fingers trembled against my switch stars as the beat of the music anchored me to the here and now. I breathed in the light, spicy scent of him, mixed with the sulfur of the demon.

I wasnt expecting one so early, he said, his voice husky from the kiss of the succubus hed just destroyed. Thanks for distracting her.

Early? I drew back. It was nearing midnight. And as far as what hed done What are you?

His mouth spread into a toothy Matt Damon grin, which would have completely disarmed me if I hadnt known exactly what he was capable of. He held out a hand, palm up. You must be Lizzie.

Who are you?

Call me Max, he said, his warm hand closing on my arm. Come with me, and Ill tell you everything.

Other Love Spell books by Angie Fox:

THE ACCIDENTAL DEMON SLAYER

To my daughter Madeline, who wants to be a

princess fairy author when she grows up.

Id like to be one of those, too.

LOVE SPELL

May 2009

Published by

Dorchester Publishing Co., Inc.

200 Madison Avenue

New York, NY 10016

Copyright 2009 by Angie Fox

ISBN 13: 978-0-505-52770-7

E-ISBN: 978-1-4285-0676-3

The name Love Spell and its logo are trademarks of Dorchester Publishing Co., Inc.

Printed in the United States of America.

Visit us on the web at www.dorchesterpub.com.

This book wouldnt have been half as much fun without Jess Granger, my first reader and great friend.

A big high five to Harley rider Brad Jones, who keeps the Red Skull biker witches on the straight and narrow, and of course to Harley Boy and Cletus, the biker dogs who taught Pirate how to ride. Now if they only hadnt taught him to ride so fast

Thanks to my brother, Mike Fox, for designing my website and also to Kit Smith for setting up the Whats Your Biker Witch Name? online quiz. Without you two, it would be impossible to tell a Mantrap Marcie Steel Butt from a Wino Wally No Brakes. And we all know how important that is.

Thanks also to Leah Hultenschmidt whose support for this series has just been amazing. To Jessica Faust, who pulls off the combo of savvy and nice in a way few people can.

Last but not least, Im blessed with an amazing husband Jim, who only occasionally uses my early manuscripts as coasters, along with wonderful friends who (mostly) keep me in line: Aileen Crowe Nandi, Ben Terrill, Shirley Damsgaard, Joanna Campbell Slan, Ann Aguirre, Diane Freiermuth, Teresa Bodwell, Kathye Marsh, Matt Bernsen and Scott Granneman. And of course to Sally MacKenzie who is always the first to pop into my e-mail inbox when there is good news to be shared. Thanks, guys.

Ive had more than my share of those dreams where I show up somewhere naked. My high school reunion, my cousins wedding reception, double-coupon day at the Piggly Wigglymy goodies are on display. And in every dream, Ive dealt with it by pretending I wasnt the only leafless tree in the forest. Im not sure if it ever fooled anyone, but it got me through.

Its when Im awake that the real trouble starts. Im a demon slayeras of two weeks ago.

Lord help us all.

For me, being a demon slayer is kind of like showing up naked everywhere I go. I have to let it all hang out and do my best with what Ive got. Because if I fail, I could get somebody killed or worse. Believe me, I think of that every day.

The Hairy Hog biker bar stood on an acre and a half of scrub brush, right off Highway 40. The beer was cold, the pool table fixed and the jukebox jinxed to play two-for-one Lynyrd Skynyrd. Not that wed been able to enjoy it for long.

We were blowing through Defiance, New Mexico, with my grandmas gang of witches, the Red Skulls, on a somewhat sensitive, definitely secretive rescue. Good thing the biker code didnt leave room for our hosts at the Hairy Hog to be asking a lot of awkward questions.

Wed stopped long enough to buy a few rounds downstairs before bunking in the attic. Well, some of us. I crept back into the bar with the sunrise and saw that the rest of the Freebird crowd had opted simply to pass out in their wooden bar chairs and on the stained concrete floor. From the look of it, not to mention the smell, theyd spilled as much booze as they drank.

I fiddled with one of my silver stud earrings like I did every time I was nervous. Just my luck the sleeping beauties werent going anywhere.

Jesus, Mary, Joseph and the mule. I hadnt wanted to do this in front of people, unconscious or not.

Pardon, I mumbled as I braced one hand on a rust-flecked cigarette machine and eased a black boot up and over the very hairy man who seemed to be using the selection knobs for a pillow. His mouth slacked open and a snore rumbled in his throat. Of course he wouldnt have noticed if Id tap-danced across his whatnots, but I was raised as a good Southern girl and, well, old habits die hard.