"Knight expertly blends scorching passion, gritty danger and a wildly creative plot in "Red Fire," the first in an edgy new paranormal series." - John Charles, The Chicago Tribune

“White-hot immortal warriors, heart-pounding romance, and thrilling action. It doesn't get any better than this!” -Gena Showalter, New York Times Bestselling author of The Darkest Pleasure

“Powerfully sensual and mind-blowing,” Deidre Knight’s novels have set the standard for boldly erotic paranormal romance. Now she unleashes an electrifying new series in which seven Spartan warriors, immortal protectors of humankind, battle their passions—a collective weakness that could lead to their downfall." – Romance B(u)y the Book

"Deidre Knight has created a fascinating world of gods, demons, and immortal warriors. Her heroine, Shay Angel, is both strong and sympathetic, a woman discovering powers she never knew she had. Legendary Spartan Ajax is handsome, seductive and haunted -- a hero to inspire delicious dreams. I can't wait for more!" – Angela Knight, NYT Bestselling author of Master of Dragons

"Knight provides an intriguing new twist to both Greek mythology and legendary Spartan warriors with this searing new series, as she sets up an alternate world that begs to be explored." - Jill M. Smith, Romantic Times, 4 Stars: HOT

“Here is a story as rich and as vibrant as any myth, and for those who are interested in the paranormal, Red Fire is a real feast for the hungry and a no holds barred winner.” — RomanceAtHeart.com

"Deidre Knight pushed the boudaries of urban fantasy with this deeply spiritual story of good vs. evil. The lush southern backdrop makes for a sensual background and Knight works it to the hilt, creating an erotic, heroic passion that burns larger than life itself." - Liane Gentry Skye, Writers Gone Wild

Why would any angel’s wings be so black? Wouldn’t they be white or even golden, made of heavenly fleece? Not menacing and darkly violent like the ones her savior bore upon his back.  It was a random thought, probably stupid, but clinging to the guy, launching upward with him like some NASA experiment, it was about the only thing Shay could focus on.

With a desperately stolen glance over her shoulder, she gasped as the dark ground below them grew farther and farther away.  It was like that horrible recurring dream of hers, the one where the Ferris wheel dislodged, taking her dangerously high.  Only this was no dream—or if it was, she sure as heck hadn’t been able to wake up from it yet. 

Snap out of it! Wake UP! Slap, slap, Shay. 

The ground just spiraled farther below, the heavy wind whipping her hair across her eyes and chilling her face and neck. 

Nope, not a dream, she thought, feeling every nerve ending, every muscle in her body scream its wakeful state right back at her. The illumination of Savannah spread beneath her dangling feet like Christmas lights.  It would have been beautiful if she weren’t scared out of her mind, practically clawing at the angel’s neck in a frantic bid to hang onto him tighter.

“Oh my God.  Oh my God! Am I dead? Is this how you take me to heaven?”

“You’re very much alive, little mortal.” As if dismissing her intense fear and confusion, he adjusted her easily within his arms, scooping her against his heavily muscled chest.  He was bare-skinned except for a kind of… well, leather loincloth thing that covered his lower body.  And all that bare skin, tight across rock-hard muscle, felt fantastically warm—especially since the night air was only growing colder the higher he flew. 

He held a sword in his free hand, and for a moment, he adjusted it, propping it against her side. Then, he lifted it upward in a sort of charging gesture. “River Kassandros, well done!” he cheered, then, it was the most bizarre thing—he hurled the sword into the air—like he never planned to use it again.  He just discarded it, like so much dead weight, or a heavy useless stone. 

Shay followed the weapon’s crashing descent, amazed that he’d let something so detailed and intricate go—but watching was a first-class mistake.  She got instant vertigo.  That, and witnessed about the umpteenth weird thing of the day. The wings along the sword’s pommel lifted right off of it, growing into black, feathered ones just like her angel’s.  The wings’ size increased and thickened until they flew right into the wind—into the wind without any living form attached to them whatsoever. 

A roll of nausea had her instantly burying her face against the angel’s bulky shoulder.  “Oh my God, God, God,” she murmured, refusing to look again.

“I’d stop using His name like that,” he said matter-of-factly. “Because my general impression is that He’s not so fond of it.  That is if you mean the God Without a Name.”

“Shouldn’t you know who God is?” she screeched in alarm, half-climbing the creature’s body as he soared suddenly much higher. 

“It all depends on which one you mean.  The highest God, the one my people called Nameless… I assumed He’s the one you’re invoking.  Then again, perhaps Apollo is more your style, or Zeus.” He chuckled strangely to himself, then added, “Although I’d leave Zeus out of it.” His voice grew gravelly rich, darker. “You know how that went for Leda.”

Leda and the Swan had been one of the first poems she’d memorized in AP English, years ago in high school.  Yeats, wasn’t it? Then all the paintings and sculptures she’d studied while at art school.  Dozens of versions of the very same myth, but always with Zeus taking the form of a swan, and….

Shay stiffened, lifting back her head to stare the angel in the eyes.  What kind of angel used sexual innuendo, especially while rescuing his protected?

“You’ve got to set me down or I’m gonna fall right out of your arms and totally die.”  She tried to sound brave, but the truth was she was shaking so hard, it made speech nearly impossible. 

He stared into her eyes, soared for a moment without beating those epic wings, and a slow and wicked smile spread across his full lips.  “Did I frighten you, mortal?”

“You kidnapped me back there.  You’ve literally swept me up on some sort of journey with you—which, I’m gonna assume isn’t to take me to heaven since you nixed that one.”

That wicked lovely smile grew wider, revealing the flash of white teeth and a slight dimple in one cheek. “Oh, perhaps I could show you heaven, lass, but it won’t be the spiritual kind.”  He laughed, a low and erotic sound. “I don’t see how you have much choice at the moment either,” he continued, once again beginning a slow and steady rhythm with his wings.  With every motion of the sleek black appendages, his thick chest filled out slightly, pushing into her, making her increasingly aware of his supernatural heat. 

His skin was smooth, hairless—at least across his pectorals—lower on his body, she felt the light tickling of feathers.  It seemed that near his abdomen, what would have been a trail of wiry hair leading southward was, in fact, a dusting of down.

And why did that thought make her entire body tense and ache with lust for this… creature?  He wasn’t a man, and as angels went, he wasn’t even totally good. 

You are so twisted, she told herself—right before she remembered that he’d been able to hear some of her projected thoughts earlier.  She pulled back, studying his face to see if he had any inkling of what his extremely male and chiseled body was doing to her. 

He smiled that crooked, half-cocked grin, the same one he’d used before, looking smug and satisfied with himself.  The jerk knew exactly how hot he was; heck, he probably posed for beefcake pictures somewhere out on the Net.

“Set. Me. Down,” she repeated.  Firm and authoritative.  That’s what this situation is going to take.  “Now!”

“Back in Bonaventure?”

“No… somewhere safe.”

“The only safe place for you, little lass, is right here in my arms.  At least for the time being.  Those demons will want to taste your mortal’s blood for a while yet.”

She shivered again, thinking that it was so her luck to have such limited choices. 

“Besides,” he whispered huskily in her ear, “I can recite a little poetry while we travel.”

“Screw that! Where are we going? I mean it, pal.  You tell me where we’re headed.”

He laughed, nuzzling her cheek. “In circles at the moment—at least until I get you to settle down.”

“That’s what you call this? Settling me down?”

“I had some other ideas about how to accomplish that… relaxation techniques, let’s call them—but you didn’t seem to like the idea of playing Leda with me.”

“You’re supposed to be my protector.  I’m gonna seriously complain to someone when this is all over because, well, you really have a bad attitude.  You know, one of those 800 numbers for truck drivers, but with you it’s ‘how’s my flying?’ Surely it’s against some rule, somewhere, for you to come on to me while hying me away from a killer demon horde.”

“Lucky you, but I answer to no man… well, save one, and he’s not present at the moment.”

“How totally reassuring.” 

“Besides, wee nymph, look at the wind about you, at the land below… feel the power of the air beneath my wings… feel it in your own body.  Experience every one of my movements within your own limbs.” He pressed his lips against her cheek, murmuring, “Fly with me; don’t fight.”

He paused, running a warm, stroking palm along her back.  But his heat only made her shiver even more, made her tremble against his bare chest.   Where he held her cradled beneath the knees, he began rubbing the back of her right calf and her whole leg erupted in needy fire.  “Feel our bodies, at one, here in the heavens.  Why should you want to be anywhere else, but here in my arms, safe beneath my wings? Yes, I protect you.  But, as it happens, I also want to awaken you.”

“I don’t think I’m dreaming,” she stammered, feeling the light brush of his beard growth against her own smooth cheek.  “I-I figured that out.”

“I’m not talking about sleep, my Leda. Although what I’m thinking of might be best accomplished in a nice bed.” He laughed wickedly, causing her face and neck to burn.  Then, he became suddenly tender once again.  He adjusted her in his arms, pulling her a heartbeat closer, adding, “But the open air works just as well for holding you captive in my arms.  Besides, besting Sable’s ass has left me, it seems, a tad… randy.”

Her heart might as well have stopped.  And that was before he drew his warm mouth against her ear, and began quoting Yeats.   He murmured the words slowly, as if he were savoring them, offering each one of them as a delicacy, a specific seduction.  Slowly he recited Leda and the Swan, the stanzas describing the bird’s wings and webbed feet, the ones that told how he used his transformed body to press her thighs apart… and how he overcame the innocent girl.  

He stroked her hair, caught about her face from the harsh forces of wind and nature that had captured her in his arms.  Warm fingertips grazed her cheekbone; he nuzzled her.  No sound filled her ear for long moments except for the whistling of the air all about them—that, and his accelerated breathing.  And all the while, his chest expanded and filled with every single wing beat. 

His warm breath filled her ear once again—right when she almost figured he wouldn’t continue.  “Shall I catch you in my talons, mortal?” he hissed, his voice suddenly harsh, aggressive.  Urgent.  “Show you my full hawk form and ravage you with my beak? I could chase you, if you’d like, pursue you.  Think what that would feel like… all this power that you’ve got about you right now, caressing you, stealing you.”