Caith Morningstar

Hell’s Chapel

I’m Caith Morningstar: bar owner, leather wearer, shoe worshipper, werewolf, Orlando’s resident ass kicker and… Satan’s niece.

In the tween—between On High and Hell—I’ve got three rules: order, secrecy, and if you can’t manage that at least have some discretion.  Wait, make that four: no one screws with me or my stuff.  Orlando—land of that famous mouse—is my home and people are either gonna get in line or get out.

Except someone didn’t get that memo.  Now, I’m gonna bust out my bat and smash some heads.  I’ve got zombies demolishing my home, vamps chasing me, and on top of the normal violence in my life, I’m quickly falling for an angel.

I can handle the blood, gore, and frustration, but can I deal with the pain of loving—possibly losing—the angel Samkiel? Probably not, but I’m gonna try anyway.

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This is Celia's first foray into urban fantasy as Lauren Creed. What's the difference between Celia's urban fantasy as Lauren and her rocking shifters?

Well, the chicks are still sassy, still curvy, and pretty kick ass.  But with urban fantasy, the world really DOES revolve around her and the ass kicking includes things like swords, knives and the occasional bomb. There's a guy hanging around somewhere who is totes hot, but he's there to look pretty, provide a little muscle, get down and dirty without a lifelong commitment. And he's hot. Did she mention hot?

Basically: lotsa blood, lotsa gore, lotsa chick saving the world combined with a fanatical love of shoes and a totally bangin' ass.

Hell's Chapel: The Orlando mouse's house is filled with demons and she's just the bitch to keep 'em in line.

Hell’s Gates

I’m Caith Morningstar: bar owner, leather wearer, shoe worshipper, werewolf, Orlando’s resident ass kicker and… Satan’s niece.

Orlando—land of that famous mouse—is on day three hundred sixty-two of my demon ban and life is… boring. Until a demon finds a way around my magical blockade with a new demonic drug. Now humans are getting high and disappearing while tweeners—magical beings that live in the land between On High and Hell—are grinding on my last, violent nerve. When my son is infected with the evil taint, I realize this demon has forgotten my rules: order, secrecy, discretion, and don’t screw with me or my stuff.

Bryony is mine. Orlando is mine. This dem’s head? It’s gonna be mine, too.

But, as much as I want to deal with this alone, I can’t. I have to face Samkiel—my fallen angel mate I lost to evil. On High has given him back some of his angelic mojo and I need his purifying hand to cleanse human souls, his help tracking down the local dealer, and him at my side when we locate the dem determined to get his claws into the mouse’s house.

I lost Sam once and survived. The question now is whether I can survive losing both of the men I love most?  Or rather, will the world survive?

Made in Hell

I’m Caith Morningstar: bar owner, leather wearer, shoe worshipper, werewolf, Orlando’s resident ass kicker and… Satan’s niece.

For the love of all that is unholy, I really thought the demons of the world were smarter than to screw with me. But they’re doing it. Again.  Catatonic people are being found across the city, all of them members of a new cult.  All the followers have to do is pray to their new goddess and all will be well… while she sucks the very life out of them. What makes it worse? The bitch involved my son in her schemes. Didn’t she learn what happens when someone touches what’s mine? I’ll be sure to show her.

Add in Uncle Luc’s arrival with his still pregnant baby momma along with a request to keep her safe, and my life is just awesome. (Total sarcasm.)

It isn’t long before I realize the “goddess” wants to destroy the world, and her ticket to the top is through the baby in the mommy-to-be’s belly.

Now I’m running, I’m killing, I’m saving the world, and I’m… trying to hang on to my angelic mate, Sam.  I’m pretty sure I’m going to fail at one of those. I just hope it’s not Sam.

Hell Can Wait

I’m Caith Morningstar: bar owner, leather wearer, shoe worshipper, werewolf, Orlando’s resident ass kicker and… Satan’s niece.

The dead are rising in the land of that famous mouse and apparently, I’m the one who has to deal with the mess.  Forget movie night with my kid. I have to kill ghouls who have decided to make some new undead friends in the morgue.  Eh, killing things is easy. Generally. Oddly, these guys have glowing blue eyes and are way too good at butt kicking. Thankfully, I’m better. I manage to get rid of them, but one gets in a shot or two of his own, and now I’ve got a foot-long wound in my side that glows blue. Kinda like the ghoul.

Now the dick who made those ghouls is trying to turn me into his puppet, which so isn’t going to happen. My loved ones are trying to cure me, my angel mate is off on some super-secret mission for On High, and I’m stuck in bed “resting.” Not that I’m staying there.

I’d rather die than become anyone’s puppet, which might be my only option left. I just hope I can come back from the dead later.