Cheyenne is a half-human incubus whose star is on the rise in the Unakite City rock scene. His father, the leader of the supernatural races, would prefer he keep a “low profile”, but screw that. Cheyenne has as much music in his veins as royal incubi blood.
Alexander's future is all set: finish law school, join the family firm, and marry someone who'd be good for business. Not that he has a say in any of it. He's barely met the woman his father expects him to marry. Keeping the peace is his priority. Until he meets Cheyenne.
If secrets are kept, they can never be together. If their secrets are exposed, chaos will reign in both families.
Either way, life will never be the same.
House of the Rising Son is the first book in the LGBTQIA+ urban fantasy series Living After Midnight. Warning: This book features quirky supernatural creatures, a Thanksgiving dinner that makes the Inquisition look like a tea party, and an incubus that will rock your world.
Hook:
Were-tigers were not the inconspicuous type. If they were in the club, those assholes would be right in front.
From center stage, Cheyenne looked through the dark hair hanging over his eyes. He searched the rock crowd for the hostile faces of his father’s henchmen. So far, so good. No Were-tigers in sight. Instead, he saw tears trickling down the cheeks of women, and men holding cold bottles of beer against their foreheads.
His band jammed in the background, each member a talented musician, but the fans watched only him. They screamed and begged him for a sign of favor—a glance, a smile. He bit his lower lip, concealing a satisfied grin. He could ask them for all their worldly possessions, and they wouldn’t hesitate to oblige. But he wanted nothing except their lust, which fed him, and that was already his.
“I know what you want.” He moved his hands across his body, pushing up his black T-shirt to reveal a glimpse of stomach—and the promise of more. He teased, “I said I know what you want!” The crowd roared.
Cheyenne let his desire seep into his green eyes. “But you can’t have it.” The room exploded with cheers and applause.
He brought his palms together in front of his chest and bowed his head in mock humility as he savored the sweet, creamy taste of his fans’ longing. He rewarded them with a carnal, hungry gaze, then picked up his white Stratocaster. Fuck being an incubus, he thought. I’m a rock star.
Get House of the Rising Son here:
https://books.apple.com/us/book/house-of-the-rising-son/id6445258059
https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/house-of-the-rising-son-trevann-rogers/1122604899
https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/house-of-the-rising-son-3
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B06XPZX3G5
https://www.bookbub.com/authors/trevann-rogers
