Spotlight: Cherie Colyer

Blurb: Death isn’t the end for eighteen-year-old Avery Williams, and her final resting place isn’t beyond the Golden Gates. No, the Queen of the Damned has plans for her and, unbeknownst to Avery, fought hard to gain possession of her soul. As Hell’s newest succubus, Avery is expected to siphon life from the living. It only takes a long, meaningful kiss, but for a virgin like Avery, kissing guys she barely knows isn’t something she’s comfortable doing. Avery focuses on the upside of her fate—she’ll be returning home, or so she thinks. When the Queen of the Damned cuts her off from her old life, Avery is determined to find a way back to her family and friends, even if it means facing Hell’s fury if she’s caught.

About the author:

Cherie Colyer is best known for her young adult, paranormal romance thrillers, including the Embrace series (featuring witchcraft) and Challenging Destiny (a story about outsmarting heaven and hell.) She usually has several book projects in the works. She lives in Illinois with her family. Sign up for Cherie Colyer’s newsletter and get a deleted scene from the Embrace series.

Website: https://cheriecolyer.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Cherie-Colyer-author-250631921629169

Twitter: https://twitter.com/CherieColyer

Instagram: http://www.instagram.com/cherie_colyer/

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5288487.Cherie_Colyer

Bookbub author page: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/cherie-colyer  

Buy Links:

Amazon: https://amzn.to/2ImvzED

Barnes&Noble: https://bit.ly/2K00UND

Apple: https://apple.co/36oOrKQ

Excerpt:

His laughter bellowed out of the small bathroom. “You’re going to have to loosen up if we’re going to be living together.”

“Do not!” I called back.

The shower started, but he’d left the door open. “Succubi are supposed to be promiscuous. Not shriek at the sight of a naked man.”

“Well, I’m not most succubi, and you’re not a man,” I retorted.

My jaw dropped when I opened the closet and found it stuffed with clothes. The things on the right were obviously Cole’s. A hint of his cologne wafted from them. The left side, however, was crammed with juniors’ jeans, skirts, tops, sweaters—everything I could possibly want and not department store knock-offs. Designer brands that I used to dream of owning.

I fanned through the various items, wishing I had time to try them all on. If my best friend knew the road to Hell was stocked with the best clothes, she’d purchase a first-class ticket.

“So I’m not a man?” Cole asked from behind me.

He leaned against the doorframe, wearing a towel that conveniently hung low enough to emphasize his six-pack abs and the muscles leading to…you know. He didn’t bother to dry off either. His chest glistened with water droplets.

“I have parts that beg to differ,” he added.

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