Demons Prefer Blondes

Demons Prefer Blondes

3.4 19
by Sidney Ayers
     
 

View All Available Formats & Editions

A Bad Day For A Demon

Rafe Deleon is a senior demon and he resents like hell his assignment to Earth to retrieve the Chest of the Damned before it falls into the wrong hands. But then he meets beautiful, intriguing succubus Lucy Gregory, and she's just unleashed a whole load of trouble...

Really Sucks For A Succubus

Lucy's chic suburban beauty

…  See more details below

Overview

A Bad Day For A Demon

Rafe Deleon is a senior demon and he resents like hell his assignment to Earth to retrieve the Chest of the Damned before it falls into the wrong hands. But then he meets beautiful, intriguing succubus Lucy Gregory, and she's just unleashed a whole load of trouble...

Really Sucks For A Succubus

Lucy's chic suburban beauty salon has suddenly become the Underworld's center of mass chaos and destruction. The only good thing in a day going rapidly down the tubes is the arrival of a gorgeous demon who's adamant that he can help her.

But Lucy has quite a few deeply unpleasant-not to mention deadly and hateful-surprises ahead of her, and surely there's never been a worse time to try out a new boyfriend.

Editorial Reviews

Booklist
Readers who enjoy a hip, snarky heroine and a hunky, tortured hero will relish Lucy and her even-keel foray into love and the paranormal world.
Night Owl Reviews
The heroine is as kick-ass as the hero and the author has done a great job weaving together an intricate plot. A Night Owl Reviewer Top Pick!
Long and Short Reviews
. Jam packed full of laughs, characters you can't get enough of, and a steamy-hot romance, Demons Prefer Blondes is a sure hit!
Book Loons
. It's a refreshing story, with quick wit and plenty of action.
Yummy Men & Kick Ass Chicks
. It kept me entertained enough that I am planning on reading the next books in the series.
That's What I'm Talking About
Ayers keeps the funny stuff going throughout the novel... electric and sweet at the same time.
Sexy Women Read
Really cute... fun and entertaining.
Minding Spot
Wildly entertaining, witty repartee, fantastic characters and spicy romance set the tone for this fun and magical paranormal romp
Cheryl's Book Nook
Deliciously tempting...
Black Lagoon Reviews
A great romantic read that is light and fun... Exceptionally well done.
From the Publisher
Readers who enjoy a hip, snarky heroine and a hunky, tortured hero will relish Lucy and her even-keel foray into love and the paranormal world.

The heroine is as kick-ass as the hero and the author has done a great job weaving together an intricate plot. 5 Stars, A Night Owl Reviewer Top Pick!

Jam packed full of laughs, characters you can't get enough of, and a steamy-hot romance, Demons Prefer Blondes is a sure hit!

It's a refreshing story, with quick wit and plenty of action.

It kept me entertained enough that I am planning on reading the next books in the series.

Ayers keeps the funny stuff going throughout the novel... electric and sweet at the same time.

Really cute... fun and entertaining.

Wildly entertaining, witty repartee, fantastic characters and spicy romance set the tone for this fun and magical paranormal romp

Deliciously tempting...

A great romantic read that is light and fun... Exceptionally well done.

Product Details

ISBN-13:
9781402251740
Publisher:
Sourcebooks
Publication date:
06/01/2011
Pages:
416
Sales rank:
1,221,946
Product dimensions:
6.74(w) x 4.30(h) x 1.12(d)

Read an Excerpt

Demons Prefer Blondes


By Sidney Ayers

Sourcebooks, Inc.

Copyright © 2011 Sidney Ayers
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4022-5176-4


CHAPTER 1

When Lucia Gregory became a cosmetologist, she never expected this. Here she was, sitting over a bubbling footbath, scraping the calluses off Mrs. Gunderson's bunion-ridden feet and sandblasting her thick, yellow toenails.

Got Lamisil?

Thank goodness for the soothing scent of lavender foot scrub and the protection of latex gloves. This wasn't what she had in mind, at all. But when your nail tech calls in sick again, what can you do? Grin and bear it. Bearing it was easy. The grinning part she still needed to work on.

"There you go, Mrs. Gunderson," she said, a wide smile pasted on her face. "You're all set." With a quick pat of the towel, Lucia — Lucy to her friends — dried the woman's feet. Feet that shouldn't be seen in public.

"Oh dear, you've got it all wrong." Her voice, high and whiny, would make fingernails on a chalkboard sound like a symphony.

"Standard pedicure, Mrs. G." Lucy ripped off the rubber gloves, powder flying, and threw them into the wastebasket.

Mrs. Gunderson huffed and crossed her arms. "Suzie always gives me a paraffin bath."

"That's a deluxe pedicure," she replied, pointing up to the pricing chart that hung on the wall.

"Suzie ain't ever charged me extra."

Suzie ain't here, damn it!

"Okay, Mrs. G."

The door jingled open. Lucy turned her head. In sauntered her 1:30 customer. Then again, was she really even a customer? In some circles, she'd be called a best friend.

"Hey Lucy, I'm home!" Serah said in her worst Ricky Ricardo accent.

Lucy stifled the urge to roll her eyes. Yeah, Serah's jokes were lame, but she still loved her. "What up, Serah Bear?"

"I need a wax." She paused. "Oh, I also came across the coolest chest at the antique store."

Mrs. Gunderson shook her foot and huffed. "Where's my paraffin?"

She wasn't ready to have a full-blown argument with a woman who could use her feet as weapons of mass destruction, so Lucy called over to her second-in-command, who lounged in a dryer seat reading the latest in celebrity dirt. "Frankie, hook Mrs. Gunderson up with a paraffin bath, please. My appointment just came in."

Tossing his magazine, Frankie huffed. "Appointment, my flaming ass. She visits us more than a government official visits a high-priced harlot." The mixture of effeminacy and southern flair rolled from his mouth like honey.

With a dramatic flip of her brunette curls, Serah put her hands on her hips and whipped off her Dolce frames, her sapphire eyes sparkling. "Do not!"

Frankie mimicked Serah and sashayed back and forth. "Do too, hon."

"Yeah, whatever, Frank." Serah gave Frankie an over-dramatic glare. "You know you want me. When you gonna get back in the closet, big boy?"

"The apocalypse could come, and I'd still wave my rainbow flag. Sorry, toots," Frankie smirked.

Mrs. Gunderson shook her edema-swollen cankle in front of Lucy's face. "Can someone just dip my feet, please?"

Frankie sighed. "Right away, Mrs. Gunderson." Glaring, he swiveled to face Lucy. With a point of his always manicured finger, he mouthed, "You owe me — big time."

He assisted Mrs. Gunderson from the foot spa and led her to the private room where the paraffin bath was located. Poor Frankie. She did owe him. He could have tomorrow off. That always worked.

Serah shook her head. "Why are all the cool ones either gay or already married?"

"Because that's life, toots." Lucy ambled toward the shampoo bowls and reached up to the shelf where they kept the wax. "So do you want me to tame those wild bushes or what?"

Serah ran her fingers against her eyebrows. "Are they that bad?"

"Whoever said the Amazon was the biggest rainforest in the world hasn't had the opportunity to explore the wild recesses of your brows."

"Whatever!" With a roll of her eyes, Serah whacked Lucy's arm. She plopped into the chair and leaned back. "Work your magic, girl."

"Sit back," Lucy said as she swirled the wooden spatula in the gooey mass of wax.

Taking the spatula, she spread a layer of wax in between Serah's eyes. Those eyes always made her jealous, all sapphire and sparkling. Lucy's hazels did nothing special at all. Smacking the wax strip down, Lucy smirked. With a firm grip, she ripped the strip off.

"Ouch!"

"Sorry." Gazing down at the strip, she inspected her handiwork. Success!

Serah chuckled. "No, you're not."

"Got me there." Lucy lined her brow with another thin layer of wax. "So you got another dusty old antique for your collection, eh?" With the same gusto as before, she yanked the strip off.

Lucy's friend yelped. "I should've had Frankie wax me."

"Too bad he's already got his hands dipped in wax elsewhere."

Serah drew in a deep breath. "I swear you enjoy torturing him." She leaned back more as Lucy prepared to deforest the other eyebrow. "As for the chest, it has an inscription carved in old Latin."

Latin — Lucy's least favorite subject in high school. Not because she failed, but because she was able to pronounce and read the language better than any of the nuns in Catholic school. And she wasn't afraid to correct them either. Talk about getting your habit caught in a knot.

"So you want me to read it?"

"Yeah, remember how bad I was at Latin?"

How could she forget? Imagine that, someone of Italian descent who wasn't able to decipher a lick of Latin. Lucy pulled off the strip, a little gentler this time. "It probably says, 'When in Rome, get the hell out.'"

"Ha-ha! Funny." Serah's gaze searched hers. "Something about that chest draws me to it." She heaved a sigh. "If only I could open it. It's locked."

Grabbing a pair of tweezers from the shelf, Lucy shook her head. "You got ripped off. A locked box with no key?"

"I bought it as a conversation piece, but when I got home I just had to look inside." Serah winced as Lucy plucked the remaining hairs. "Are you almost done?"

"Yeah." Lucy shoved a mirror at her. "How's that?"

"Perfect. So you'll look at it?"

Lucy arched a brow. Serah's odd interest in this chest piqued hers. "Umm ... if it's locked, how will we open it?"

"I meant the inscription, you dork." Serah thrust the mirror at her and bounced from the chair. "I think it will tell us how to open the chest."

Taking a deep breath, Lucy nodded. "Yeah, okay.

Meet me here at nine."

"Thanks girl. I owe you one."

"Yeah, sure." She'd just add another item to the long list of things Serah still owed her for.


* * *


After two hours of sweeping the floors and cleaning the stations, Lucy flopped down into the dryer seat. Taking a swig of warm Coke, she grimaced. Where was the Captain Morgan when she really needed it? She picked up the tabloid Frankie had been reading earlier and thumbed through the pages. So-and-so's hidden baby bump, someone caught at the beach with someone else, the drunken socialite who went commando and bared all to the paparazzi, the professional bowler who had fifteen mistresses. Each week, everything was the same. Only the names had changed.

The soft rap on the back door broke Lucy's thoughts. Glancing at the clock, she sighed. Punctual as always. Serah was never late. Throwing the tabloid trash on the stand next to the dryer, Lucy bounded from the seat and walked toward the door.

There stood Serah, her arms wrapped around a huge chest. It had to be at least three feet wide and just as tall. How she managed to lug the thing would remain a mystery to Lucy. She looked like she would tip over at any minute. She unlocked the door and let her friend in.

"Whoa! You carried that all the way from your car?"

Nodding, Serah toddled into the shop. "The chest isn't as heavy as it seems. I think it's empty. Where can I put it?"

"I suppose here," Lucy said, pointing to the reception desk. "Let me clear it off." She picked up the display of hair products and set everything on the floor next to the desk.

Serah took in a deep breath and grunted as she tried to set the old chest on the desk.

Lucy rushed over and grabbed the other end.

"Let me help." Tingles of electricity traveled from her fingers through her arms and chest down to her legs and feet. Her toes twitched. Her hand fell away, and the chest landed on the desk with a deafening thud.

Serah's mouth fell open. "Hey, that cost me a lot of money!"

"Your box just electrocuted me!" Lucy retorted, her fingers still tingling.

"It did not." Serah crossed her arms in front of her.

She gazed down at her fingers and gasped. What the freaking hell?

"I see, so I am supposed to be gentle with your box, while it's allowed to send jolts of electricity through my body. Look!" Lucy thrust her hands toward her, showing Serah her singed fingertips. "Well?"

"Maybe it's hair dye from earlier." Serah threw her head back in laughter. "And stop calling it my box. It weirds me out."

"Whatever. Let me see this chest so I can set sail with Captain Morgan. It's been a long day."

Serah shrugged. "Fine by me, if I can stow away."

"The captain says, 'Aye aye. The more the merrier.'" Lucy hunched over the chest and rubbed her fingers across the lid. Tingly, but not as tingly as before. Wiping two hundred years of dirt and dust from the chest, she had her first look. Along with the fading inscription, weird symbols dotted the lid. Then she discovered a title etched deep into the sturdy oaken chest. A box with a title? Strange, indeed. Almost as strange as the hieroglyphics decorated all over the lid.

"Arca Inferorum." Lucy said. Now if that wasn't a title to try and scare someone away, she didn't know what was.

"Arca what?" Serah's blank expression filled her face. "What's that mean?"

"It means Chest of the ..." Lucy thought long and hard about the last word, and then Dante's Inferno came blazing back at her. "Damned."

"Damned?"

Lucy nodded. "Yes, damned. It was probably designed by some over-devout monk wanting to scare mankind into repenting for their sins. I wouldn't be surprised if there's a 'Made in Rome' stamp on the bottom."

Serah wasn't amused. "Whatever. Just read the inscription."

Lucy wiped away more grime and traced her fingertip over the words. Stronger tingles zipped through her body. "It must be equipped with a security system. Every time I touch it, I get zapped."

"Doesn't happen to me," Serah replied nonchalantly.

"Guess it's my electric personality." She leaned over the chest and began translating the inscription.

"At the beginning of the total eclipse of the winter moon, shall this chest be opened only by one of demon blood. They shall call forth the legions of the underworld. By the power of this one demon will Earth be theirs."

Lucy shook her head. "Yep, it's a hoax. I hope you get your money back."

"Oh my God!" Serah exclaimed, oblivious to Lucy's words.

Bemusement filled Lucy. Her gaze narrowed. "Oh my God, what?"

"There's supposed to be a total lunar eclipse tomorrow night!" Giddy laughter burst from her lips. "This will be so cool!"

It was as if they were kids again and this was their first sleepover. Only they weren't kids. Lucy was pushing thirty and Serah wasn't far behind.

Rolling her eyes, Lucy shook her head. Here comes another one of Serah's harebrained ideas.

"Even if what the inscription says is real, what part of 'Only by one of demon blood' do you not understand?"

"There's a demon inside me," Serah replied.

Oh brother, Serah and her demons. "But you usually shut the bitch up with chocolate."

"Even so, wouldn't it be fun to at least try and open it?"

"Whatever," Lucy replied with a shrug. "If you want to wait until tomorrow for me to translate the inscription better, that's fine."

"Demons in a box, how cool."

"Yeah, cool. Too bad demons don't exist."

CHAPTER 2

"Your father would be disappointed in you." Her mother's admonishing voice echoed on her eardrum. "Richard Fenton is a nice young man. Why won't you go out with him?" Her loud huff boomed in Lucy's ear. "It's bad enough you dropped out of med school. For what? Doing hair?"

Adjusting the cordless phone, Lucy sucked in a deep breath. This wasn't the time or the place. "We'll talk later. I'm working on Mrs. Carlson's perm." The noxious odor of chemicals wafted to her nose, sending her head spinning. Permanents weren't her favorite treatment, with all their disgusting odors. They did pay the bills, though.

"Fine, darling." There was no tone of affection in the endearment. "I'll see you for dinner."

Was that tonight? Too late to cancel now.

"Bye." She hung up the phone and slammed it on the counter with a little more force than intended.

"Such anger!" Mrs. Carlson clucked her tongue and shook her head. "My Josh is lucky you left him."

Lucy turned her attention back to Mrs. Carlson. She sat high and mighty in the chair, staring down her long aquiline nose at her. Clearly, she'd allowed being the mayor's wife to go to her head. Either that or she still hadn't forgiven her for "breaking her baby's heart."

Then again, neither had Mom.

So what that Joshua Carlson attended an Ivy League med school. So what that he was gorgeous. So he had brains and a body. But he was boring as hell. Every time he opened his mouth, Lucy wanted to fall asleep. As for breaking Josh's heart, the breakup was mutual. Too bad Mrs. Carlson and her meddlesome mother couldn't seem to realize it.

She'd chalk up Josh Carlson — and Rich Fenton, for that matter — to the never-ending list of her failures that her mother would never let her live down.

"I'm sure he is, Mrs. Carlson. Isn't he engaged to Larissa Harding?" Lucy flashed her favorite pasted-on smile. "She's so lovely." She was smart, pretty, and just as boring as Josh. They were perfect for each other and the mundane life of matrimony. Squirting more solution on each wound-up rod, she gritted her teeth. Lucy loved her job, but with people like Mrs. Gunderson with her fucked-up phalanges and Mrs. Carlson and her holier-than-thou attitude, her patience was fleeting.

"Maybe Larissa will come here for her updo. Imagine that! It could've been you." The snide remark, meant to cut, had the opposite effect, but Lucy managed to control her laughter, anyway.

"Who'd style my hair then?"

Mrs. Carlson rolled her eyes. "One of these days, you're going to have what you did to my son happen to you. When it does, don't come back crying."

Lucy could only smile and nod in agreement. After all, she was always right. Even after her son's numerous pleadings to leave Lucy alone, she wouldn't let things go. After five years, she still hadn't given up.

"I probably will."

Mrs. Carlson narrowed her gaze. "Are you patronizing me?"

"Me? Never!" She squeezed the last bit of solution on her tightly wound rods. If only she'd rolled them tighter. She grabbed some cotton and wrapped it around Mrs. Carlson's wound-up hair and affixed a plastic cap over her head. "Time to let the perm set."

Turning the minute minder to twenty minutes, Lucy breathed a sigh of relief. She was free! Well, almost.

The door swung open. "Hey, chica!" Gerardo Martinez flounced into the shop, his pink feathered shirt blowing with the breeze. Bright magenta leather clung tightly to his legs. It always amazed Lucy how he could walk in those things. The camera around his neck swung with each sway of his hips.

Yep! Lucy liked surrounding herself with gay men. They had a lot in common. And it wasn't an extreme attraction to Gerard Butler, either. But boy, could they do hair!

"I got the photos developed." He held up a black leather portfolio in triumph.

"Do you really think you have a shot at Model America?"

"Hell yeah." He sashayed and placed a hand on his hip. "I know how to work it. Naomi Campbell ain't got nada on me."

"Better not let Naomi hear that, or you may end up in the hospital with a case of cell phone abuse."

"Puh-lease! She only does that to her assistants." Gerardo took off his camera, sat it on the counter, and ran his fingers through his dark slicked-back hair. "Do you want to see the money shot, or what?"

Lucy fought the chuckle that formed deep in her chest. "Money shot? I don't want to go there. But if you want my honest opinion, I'll have a peek."

"You have to try out!" Gerardo sauntered around the counter and plopped the portfolio down. Kicking Serah's chest with his dainty boot, he yelped. "What the hell?"

Lucy picked up the heavy box and lugged it to the chair. Her fingers tingled again and she dropped it.

Arrgh! Serah and her security-enabled chest. If she had a choice, she would've shoved it up her skinny little ass.

Despite the film of dust and dirt, it was one of Serah's more unusual finds. Along with the strange inscription and title, the symbols on its surface were expertly carved. Barbed vines and ivy wrapped their way around the edges of the entire box. On the center of the box sat a solitary outline of a handprint with a pentagram carved inside it.

"This box is creepy," Gerardo said, gazing down at Serah's box. "My mamá showed me something similar when we still lived in Mexico. 'Muy malvado,' she would say. Very evil."

She rolled her eyes. Yep, definitely designed to get everyone to church. "It's a bunch of crap. I already told Serah to get her money back."


(Continues...)

Excerpted from Demons Prefer Blondes by Sidney Ayers. Copyright © 2011 Sidney Ayers. Excerpted by permission of Sourcebooks, Inc..
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

Read More

Meet the Author

Sidney Ayers writes light paranormal and erotic romance. Her manuscripts have won or placed in the MORWA Gateway to the Best, the Valley of the Sun Hot Prospects, the Passionate Ink Stroke of Midnight, the Heart of Denver Molly, and the Finally a Bride contests. She lives in Comstock Park, Michigan.

Customer Reviews

Average Review:

Write a Review

and post it to your social network

     

Most Helpful Customer Reviews

See all customer reviews >