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Indie Author Spotlight: Candice Bundy

I met Candice on Twitter last year, just a short time after I’d started this whole “Indie author” thing.  She’s funny, supportive and talented, and I’m pleased and honored to feature Candice and her new release, The Daemon Whisperer, Book One of the Liminals Series.  I’ve been hooked on this work ever since Candice started showcasing it for Six Sentence Sunday some time ago.  Well, the day of its release is finally here (HOORAY!)

Check out this excerpt, and grab a copy today!

Turning the corner, Meri ran into a group of street thugs caught up in a private conversation. Gangs always gave her a wide berth. Used to being treated as socially untouchable, Meri, lost in her own thoughts, ignored them.

Instead of backing off, they blocked her way, leering and leaning provocatively against the walls and dumpsters. The ringleader stood across from her, broad-shouldered arms crossed over his washboard abs, jeans slung low across his hips revealing his underwear in common fashion. A sheen of sweat shone over his close-clipped head. Everything about him was tight and honed to perfection, and he was planted square in her path. The other four confidently backed him up.

Meri fumed at the display of male machismo. It nauseated her. “What’s the meaning of this, boys?”

“We’re curious what a beauty like you is doing wandering alone in our ‘hood? You looking to entertain us a while?” He eyed her up and down. His companions hooted and whistled, edging in closer.

Waves of heat and anger rolled off Meri. “You see my ink, yes, boys?” This was a rhetoric question, meant to call attention to her ink. Yeah, her cargo pants covered her legs right now, but the ink on her forehead was always visible, and her short-sleeved, low-neck top revealed her ink-covered arms, upper back and chest.

“Oh yeah,” the leader, unbelievably, took that as an invitation.

“You know, I dance with daemon ilk, not pretty boys like you, get my drift?”

“Oh, you’re looking downright edible, daemon ink or no, little lady.” They continued to converge.

Meri sighed, and muttered under her breath. “Since when am I a sex magnet?” Her hair lifted and clothing swirled as waves of heat emanated from her pores. She dropped the latte, now boiling in its slowly melting plastic cup.

“I didn’t quite catch that, sweetheart,” the ringleader sidled up to Meri, his eyes fixated on her curves. “But I do know you’re the spiciest dance I want to give a whirl.”

Meri wasn’t afraid of the men or her dramatic temperature increase. The idea of intimacy with them made her ill, but the more they challenged her, the more she ached for a fight.

“You think you can take me? I think I’m a little too hot for you handle.” A heat wave blew off Meri, knocking two of the ringleader’s men to the ground. Although they scrambled back up quickly, all of them except the ringleader lost a bit of confidence in their postures.

He grabbed for her by the upper arm, thinking to rein her in, but his skin sizzled at the contact. When he tried to pull back, Meri grabbed his wrist.

“I thought you wanted to dance a while?” Meri smelled his skin burn while she stared him down. To his credit, he didn’t flinch, clearly not wanting to display weakness in front of his men. When Meri released him she followed through with a punch to his abs, and to her surprise, he flew back a good eight feet and landed on his ass on the pavement. None of his men moved to challenge her, her point well and truly made.

“I hope that dance met your standards?” Meri asked. She continued down the alley, unobstructed by the men. Behind her, she heard the men dragging their ringleader and fallen friends away, accompanied by much swearing.


Meriwether Storm discovered the grisly remains of her parents on their living room floor when she was only fourteen, the result of a failed daemon summoning. Meri immediately swore vengeance on the daemon who’d killed her parents, but there was only one problem–she had no idea which one had committed the atrocity.

Before their untimely deaths her parents had trained her intensively in the arts, and Meri used her skills to follow in their footsteps, ever seeking the daemon’s name. Now, despite her years of searching, she’s no closer to the truth and her time is running out. Will she accept a deal from a daemon if it means finally learning the truth? When retribution is the only thing that drives you, how much are you willing to sacrifice before you lose yourself to the cause?


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