In a world fraught with demons threatening to destroy humankind, A Company of demon hunters will risk everything to save the world.
When demons threaten London, even ladies must answer the call…
Lord Gabriel Thurston returns home from war to find his fiancée much changed. She’s grown from a sweet girl into a mysterious woman who guards her dark secrets well. When he sees her sneaking away from a ball, he’s convinced it’s for a lover’s rendezvous. Following her to London’s slums, Gabriel watches in horror as his fiancée ruthlessly slays a man.
Lady Belinda Clayton’s only concern was her dress for the next ball—until demons nearly killed her, and a group of Demon Hunters saved her life. Now, a lady by day, and a demon hunter by night, she knows where her duty lies. Ending her betrothal is the best way to protect Gabriel from death at a demon’s hands.
Gabriel soon realizes, like him, Belinda has been fighting for her country. He joins in the fight, determined to show her that their love can endure—even at the gates of Hell.
When Demons threaten Regency London, only a Lady can stop them…
Lillian Dellacourt is beautiful, refined and absolutely lethal. She’s also the most feared and merciless demon hunter in The Company. She’s come a long way from the penniless seamstress’s daughter sold to the highest bidder, and it wasn’t by trusting a man, let alone an exiled Marquis with more on his mind than slaying the hellspawn…
For Dorian Lambert, Marquis de Montalembert, being sent to keep track of Lillian is no mean task. He’s wanted the fiery vixen since he first heard of her five years ago. But wooing the lady while fighting the demon uprising is difficult, especially when the lady’s tongue is as sharp as the Japanese sai blades she favors the hunt.
These two will have to learn to trust each other fast, because the demon master is back, and he’s planning to turn Edinburgh into a living hell…
In service to His Majesty, one must be prepared for Hell.
To survive as a scullery maid requires hard work, discipline, and a stiff upper lip. To survive as a demon hunter is something else entirely. Elizabeth Smyth learned this after she was captured by Demons and rescued by hunters. Now a hunter herself, Elizabeth’s first task in this new and strange world is to aid the recently wounded Reece Foxjohn, and get him back into Demon-slaying shape. . .
Reece Foxjohn is used to defying convention. He enraged his family by becoming a demon hunter, and prefers eviscerating demons to mixing with society. He is a man who doesn’t hesitate when he knows what he wants, and what he wants is Miss Elizabeth Smyth. To watch her behead the progeny of Evil is to behold a thing of beauty—one he must claim for his at all costs.
The Demon Hunters are about to face their biggest test, and they’ll need a lady to make the grade…
Lady Serena Thurston had big plans—attend the best balls, meet a fine gentleman, get married, have a child or two and live happily ever after. But plans change. Serena knows firsthand what demons can do, and nothing will stand in the way of her goal to become a Demon Hunter—not even her absentee fiancé.
Tad Douglass is furious his fiancée has enrolled in the Demon Hunters’ school. Admittedly, he should have been more attentive after her capture by demons, but important Hunter business demanded his presence. Now, he’s forced to watch her transformation from an innocent young woman to a formidable Hunter. He’ll use every resource at his disposal to change her mind and return her to the simple life of a debutante.
When people go missing in London, Serena and Tad must investigate—together. The mistrust and love simmering between them during their perilous mission is brought to a boil at the gateway to Hell. With the lines between good and evil blurred, and death lurking at every turn, it will take a leap of faith to embrace this new partnership—as heroes and as lovers.
Reviewed in the United States on April 13, 2021
Ascension (The Demon Hunters, #1) by A.S. Fenichel
This book is a wonderful start to a new series. This is Lord Gabriel Thurston and Lady Belinda Carlisle’s story. He is just home from war and finds his fiancée much changed. He soon finds out she is a demon hunter and joins her in the hunt. There are so many feeling in this book, horror, angst, viscous demons, brave demon hunters (who I hope will have their own stories in upcoming books), laughs, tears, fears, deceptions, discoveries, losses, victories, love, devotion and plenty of steam to get us to this books HEA. This can be read as a standalone but it is still an ongoing story and I can’t wait to find out what happens next.
Reasons I enjoyed this book:
Easy-to-read Romantic Unpredictable Happily Ever After Scary Witty Entertaining Twisted Great world building Wonderful characters Page-turner Tear-jerker Steamy Action-packed Tragic Haunting
Welcome to the blog! Today, I am featuring an excerpt from the Demon Hunter series. I love A.S. Fenichel’s Regency books and now I am equally excited to read this world of demon hunters.
Lady Belinda Clayton grappled with the creaking iron gate, which led to the back garden of her family’s London townhouse. It was not the first time she had used the unconventional route to make her way back home in the predawn hours. Nor was it the first time her dress had been ruined or her hair tousled in her rush to make her way through the streets without becoming a number on the death toll in the city’s records.
Pushing the gate closed, the rough, cold metal scratched her gloved palm. Once the latch was secured, she ran her finger along the jagged tear in her left glove. “Too bad,” she said. She shook her head at the ruined garment. “I really did like this pair.”
“What pair is that, Lady Belinda?” Gabriel’s deep, seductive voice cut through the still night.
His blue eyes were the color of the sea just before a storm and their depths burned into her.
Her stomach did a flip before she had time to control herself. She was sure she looked flustered and she could have kicked herself for not steeling her nerves before facing Lord Gabriel Thurston, the Earl of Tullering.
“Tullering, what on earth are you doing in my garden in the middle of the night?” The sound of cold detachment in her voice gave her satisfaction.
“One might ask you the same question, Lady Belinda.” He ran his hand through his dark hair, loosening it from the ribbon. His cravat had come open and his evening clothes were crushed. There was something dangerous about an unkempt Gabriel. The gesture was a sign of frustration from the earl. She’d seen it many times.
Her heart raced and she swallowed the panic welling in her gut. “This is my home, my lord. You do not live here. If I am not mistaken you have a home in London where you should be at this late hour.”
“You are my fiancée.” Even in the moonlight, his face and neck burned red.
“There is no need to remind me.”
He stepped from the terrace onto the cobbled path where she stood. Looming over her his scent filled the air with a mixture of soap, spice and something else male and formidable. The scent was intrinsically Gabriel and entirely delicious.
She was tempted to back away, but forced herself to hold her ground. Her stubbornness did not stop her heart from racing or her skin from tingling at his nearness.
“Oh, but I think there is a need.” He circled behind her, his mouth inches from her ear.
She set her teeth. “I am well aware of the contract signed between you and my father four years ago, my lord. I was there when it was signed, and I was also there when you left for the continent.”
The day he left for the war came flooding back, and so did the memories of her unanswered letters, and the tears she had cried over him. Well, there would be no tears tonight.
“You are angry with me for fighting for our country?” He took a step back.
“But you are angry.”
“You might have written since your concern for our relationship is so evident.” She’d wanted to sound flippant, but she sounded brooding. She’d been hurt by his silence, and had little hope of hiding the fact.
“I wrote,” he said.
She was pleased the subject had changed to something more defensible. “Three letters in four years can hardly be considered correspondence, my lord.”
“You use to call me Gabriel,” he murmured.
She stepped away in spite of the pleasant shiver his voice produced. “That was a long time ago.” Lifting her skirts, she climbed the terrace steps away from him.
“There is still the question of why my fiancée is sneaking through the garden at four in the morning.”
She turned ready to blast him about having no right to ask her anything. Her words stuck in her throat.
In the full moonlight, he took her breath away. He was tall and broad and his hair hung loose around his face.
In spite of her anger, she wanted desperately to touch his hair and see if it was still as soft as it looked. “I come and go as I please.”
“So I see,” he said. “Perhaps then, you would be willing to explain why your dress is six inches deep with mud, why your hair looks as if you’ve been tossing in the sheets, how you got that smudge of dirt on your lovely face, or the hole in those gloves you were just lamenting?”
She wiped some dried mud from her cheek. The resulting dull pain told her she had revealed a bruise beneath.
His eyes widened and he flew up the steps.
She stepped back. She couldn’t harm Gabriel so she lifted one arm as if to dull a blow.
He froze, staring down at her.
It had been instinct. The last few years had taught her that no one is immune to violence. A woman must learn to defend herself. If he had been anyone else, she’d have struck him rather than shield herself against an angry fist. She lowered her arm and looked into his piercing eyes. Her heart pounded. She had made an error.
“Do you truly think I would strike you?”
Now that she was thinking clearly again, she hardly knew why she had defended herself. It was foolish. Gabriel would never strike her. Her environment had tainted her. She attempted to remain cold in her explanation. “I hardly know what to think, my lord. We no longer know each other.”
When he touched the tender bruise, she winced, but did not back away.
“And this, Bella, would you care to explain this to me?” His voice was soft and his touch feather-light, but his eyes narrowed and his posture remained unyielding.
She brushed his touch aside. “Do not call me that.”
“You use to like that name.”
“That too was a long time ago.”
“Not so long,” he whispered. He gazed out into the garden as if lost in some distant memory. His attention returned to her. “I am waiting for some kind of response from you, Lady Belinda.”
In spite of her need to keep him at a distance, her heart ached at his use of the formal address. Her first instinct was to tell him to go to hell and leave her alone, but that would only provoke him. She lied instead. “I have been at a ball. There was some problem with the carriage, and I was required to walk part of the way. I fell in the mud and some of it must have splattered my face when my dress was ruined.”
He frowned. “And the bruise?”
Deep creases around his full lips drew her in. Desire to tell him everything bubbled in her gut. She shrugged. “I’m sure it is only dirt. The moonlight makes it seem more dire, and you are exaggerating the situation greatly.”
“I see. Is this all the explanation I can expect?”
“It is what I am willing to say, my lord.” She turned and walked to the house. The door opened just as she arrived, and she slipped inside before her fiancé could say more.
“I thought he’d never let you go, milady,” her maid said. She took the tattered cape from Belinda’s shoulders.
“He is angry, Claire.” Belinda sat down heavily on the stool so her maid could remove her muddy boots before she tracked up the entire house. No need for all the servants to begin asking questions.
“He has a right to know what you’ve been up to.” Claire dropped one boot with a heavy thud.
“Perhaps, but I cannot tell him, regardless of his rights. He would not understand and probably could not believe me anyway. He’d have me sent to Bedlam. He will have to remain in the dark. Besides, what would I say? That while he was away fighting Napoleon, I was quite busy battling the demons that are taking over England?”
“It’s a start.” Claire shrugged, but her Irish brogue dripped with reproach.
“I think not. Just run me a bath, Claire. I’m tired, bruised and I just want a hot bath and a warm bed.
“What happened tonight, milady? We expected you hours ago. I’ve already sent Tubbs out looking for you.” Claire tucked all the soiled and torn items into a bundle for laundering, and if possible, mending.
“I hope he does not run into any demons while looking for me.”
Claire patted her shoulder. “He’ll be fine. Not to worry. Tubbs can fend for himself.”
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Betrayal – https://books2read.com/u/4jA1ZX
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About the Author
A.S. Fenichel gave up a successful IT career in New York City to follow her husband to Texas and pursue her lifelong dream of being a professional writer. She’s never looked back.
A.S. adores writing stories filled with love, passion, desire, magic, and maybe a little mayhem tossed in for good measure. Books have always been her perfect escape and she still relishes diving into one and staying up all night to finish a good story.
Originally from New York, she grew up in New Jersey, and now lives in Missouri with her real-life hero, her wonderful husband. When not reading or writing she enjoys cooking, travel, history, and puttering in her garden. On the side, she is a master cat wrangler and her two fur babies keep her very busy.
WEBSITE & SOCIAL LINKS:
Website or Blog: http://asfenichel.com