Waiting for the Son
Living After Midnight Series, Book 3
Cheyenne, the half-human son of the Monarch, is getting beaten up on the regular. He's also fighting with his weretiger boyfriend, holding down his gig in the city's premier nightclub, and taking care of his kids. Adulting is more complicated than he thought it would be.
Someone close to the Monarch is putting the supernatural races at risk. With everyone in his inner circle under suspicion, he asks his son for help unearthing the traitor.
Cheyenne declines. He doesn't have the bandwidth, and politics is not his thing.
When his father's troubles escalate, Cheyenne has no choice but to get involved. If he succeeds, the traitor will be exposed. If he fails, his father will die, and the backstabber will be free to lift the veil of secrecy that protects them all.
Waiting for the Son is the third book in the LGBTQ urban fantasy series Living After Midnight.
Warning: This book features quirky supernatural creatures, a luncheon that makes an orgy look like a made-for-TV movie and an incubus who makes you hope what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.
Excerpt
Waiting for the Son
The standing-room-only crowd at Underhill had been into his new songs. Guys and girls alike had been in sync with him, swaying when he swayed and smiling when he smiled. His skin tingled with all the positive energy—until a voicemail from Unakite City Elementary School sucked all the happy out of him.
Cheyenne thumbed off his phone and tossed it onto the sofa in his dressing room. No sense in getting agitated. He couldn't find out what new crime his kid had committed until Monday morning. So instead, he changed out of his leather and chains performance gear and into more comfortable jeans and a black tee-shirt before packing up his guitar.
His footsteps echoed as he made his way through the empty club to the alarm panel. Eric, the manager, appreciated the chance to leave early, ensuring he made it to wherever he lay to rest before the sun came up.
Chey didn't like the vampire and owed him no favors. He didn't have to be the last to leave, and Eric knew it. Chey stayed when it worked for him, either because a fan-with-benefits caught his eye or he needed extra time to come down from the post-concert high.
He punched in his code and turned on the alarm. A sense of peace washed over him as the whirring of the industrial fans slowed, the florescent blue lights faded, and internal doors locked with a mechanical swoosh that reverberated throughout the cavernous building. The click-click of the alarm system started a rhythmic chant signaling it was time to leave or risk being trapped inside.
The club's rear double doors closed behind him with a clang. Underhill's parking was never adequate for the number of people attending his shows, but Cheyenne always arrived early to be sure he parked close to the building. With his history of getting jumped in alleys and parking lots, he wasn't taking any chances. At least Gre'gori, the owner, had installed adequate lighting.
He headed to the Cutlass, his ever-faithful ride. She stood waiting right where he left her, dependable if not shiny and new. Not that a bit of wear and tear was a problem. It kept anyone from thinking she was worth stealing or vandalizing. One day he'd be able to afford a new ride, something bigger and fancier, but even then, he'd keep this pretty green thing, maybe give her to the kids one day so she'd stay in the family. But for now, she was all his, like his guitar, the other important inanimate object in his life.
"Hey there, sweetness." He patted her roof affectionately, placed his guitar case on the passenger seat, and froze. The acrid taste of challenge and jealousy, something like burnt marshmallow and ash, assaulted his senses.
Jeeze. Not again. Was the entire population of incubi out to kill him?
About Trevann
Trevann Rogers writes rock star romances, urban fantasy, and LGBT paranormal romances. Her books include HOUSE OF THE RISING SON and AFTER MIDNIGHT: The Beginning.
Her short stories appear in the anthologies Dangerous Curves Ahead: An Anthology, and Wickedly Ever After.
Each story incorporates an unquenchable addiction to music and Trevann's love for vampires, Weres, incubi and rock stars. She writes long after the sun goes down because, like these elusive creatures, she learned long ago that sometimes being yourself means Living After Midnight.
Trevann lives in Connecticut with Toby, her 10-year-old rescue puppy, and Lil Monkey, a sock monkey who thinks he's real but refuses to chip in on the mortgage.
Trevann's internet home is www.trevannrogers.com/about
Social Media
www.bookbub.com/profile/trevann-rogers
For up-to-date information about releases www.subscribepage.com/enter_livingaftermidnight
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