Genre: Adult Fiction (Paranormal Romance)
Date Published: November 13, 2017
Publisher: Ravenrock Publishing LLC
Some call him Purgatory’s Missing Prince. Demon Master. Overlord of Shadows. Only one woman may call him hers.
A master of dreams, a failure at life…
After another botched career attempt, Quinn Carmichael escapes to a remote lodge for a weekend recharge, needing respite…especially from the nightmares that haunt even her days. When a wounded, sexy-as-sin stranger faceplants unconscious on her kitchen floor, there’s something disturbingly familiar about him—as in he’s the boy from her childhood dreams. Mr. Dark, Dangerous, and Diabolical may be the key to unlocking the mysteries of her past and future, and Quinn isn’t about to let the opportunity—or him—escape without a fight.
His time is running out…
Known as Purgatory’s Missing Prince, Zaire’s existence has been one of endless pain, torture, and loss. Resigned to his fate, his final goal is simple—rescue his nephew before succumbing to the deadly darkness inside him. But when a fateful misstep brings him face-to-face with the one woman who could have saved him once upon a dream—the one woman he treasures above all else—he battles to keep his distance before he destroys her, too. But he would gladly sell his soul for just one taste.
Love draws them together, destiny will tear them apart
With ruthless enemies closing in, Quinn and Zaire must fight to save each other and those they care for before it’s too late—even if it means they’re doomed to live apart forever.
Dangerously Dark is the third book in the Dreamcaster series by C.J. Burright. This series just gets better and better. This time we see things mostly from the perspectives of Zaire and Quinn, though we do get glimpses from other characters from time to time. These different views really helped to build the situation and what was going on. Zaire has had a horrific life. Granted he has also done a lot of horrific things. Quinn was unique. She has used her dreams to strengthen herself it seems. She is a survivor. So, when Zaire disappeared from her dreams, she learned to fight them herself. I loved her strength. I also love when they showed their vulnerabilities too. Characters like these are what makes fiction believable. I love it. The romantic tension is palpable. You don't know if they're going to rip each other's throats out or rip each other's clothes off. Add in the horror and mystery that always surrounds the world of the V’alkara, and this is completely impossible to stop reading. The whole Dreamcaster Series story line is pretty ingenious. Each book blows me away. I can't get enough.
Quinn tossed the note on the coffee table and wrapped one hand around the warm ceramic mug, absently petting Wolfgang with the other. Dusk took over beyond the wall of windows, made darker by the blizzard. Falling snow hid the skirting tree line. Wind howled at the house corners and turned treetops into jerking puppets. The perfect meltdown location. No phones, no people, no problem.
The lamp flickered and died, leaving her with only the dancing firelight, not that she minded. The power had lasted longer than she expected. Stoked fire, hot cider, and now she had a great excuse to procrastinate reading unhelpful flyers. She sipped her drink and wriggled back on the couch.
Wolfgang launched off her lap, kicking papers everywhere and sloshing her drink.
“Bad cat!”
He scurried into the kitchen, out of sight. A distinct thud followed, which meant Wolfgang was up to no good.
“I should’ve sent you off to the Nameless One.” Quinn shoved the remaining flyers aside and nabbed the flashlight from the end table. “You’d make an amazing hat, and there’d be enough fur left to make a stole, the perfect ensemble to compliment her plastic face.”
She flicked on the flashlight and shuffled into the kitchen, ignoring how the light made all the shadows twist and scuttle on the walls and ceiling. Broken bones might bother her, but the dark never had.
Wolfgang expectantly stood at the back door. He meowed, high and plaintive. Nothing looked out of place. Whatever had made the thud wasn’t in the kitchen. Maybe the wind had blown a loose branch against the house.
“What, you’re a snow leopard now? There’s no fancy feline feast waiting out there for you.”
Wolfgang rubbed his cheek against the doorframe, circled, and meowed again.
Thud. The entire door shook.
Quinn jumped. That was no branch. All the horror movies she loved to watch and ridicule flashed to mind, a lot less funny now. Alone in the woods. Killer storm. No electricity. No connection to the outside world.
Wolfgang’s purr rumbled, and he slid his face over the jamb again. The noise hadn’t spooked him even a little, and animals always sensed evil. Wolfgang had had no problem detecting it in Molly.
She squared her shoulders. No one would be roaming around in a blizzard. An animal had probably knocked the trashcan into the door, and a quick look would ease any worry. At the first glimpse of fur or fang—or red, glowing eyes—she’d go for the door slam.
Pushing Wolfgang back with one foot, she cracked open the door.
Wind exploded in, ripping the doorknob from her grip and firing snow and ice into her eyes. The door banged into the wall, and the storm’s full force rushed inside. Quinn scrambled for the knob and stopped, frozen by more than the sudden blast of cold.
A man filled the entryway from threshold to frame, dark as the nightfall behind him. Steam drifted from his bare head. Frost coated his short, sable hair, and even in the flashlight beam, his complexion held an unhealthy blue-gray hue. One hand was anchored to the doorpost in a white-knuckled grip. The other brandished a wicked as sin knife.
She shone the light on his face, and her stomach roller-coastered. Her demon. The one who’d haunted her nightmares years ago and then abruptly bailed, never to return. No matter what face he wore, his death-black, abysmal eyes were unforgettable.
Or were her delusions returning with a vengeance?
“Get out of my way.” His chest heaved, and he lurched forward, the knife pointed at her. His guttural words erased any suspicion that he might be another hallucination. He was too present, too solid to be anything but real.
Merde. He was real.
The lamp flickered and died, leaving her with only the dancing firelight, not that she minded. The power had lasted longer than she expected. Stoked fire, hot cider, and now she had a great excuse to procrastinate reading unhelpful flyers. She sipped her drink and wriggled back on the couch.
Wolfgang launched off her lap, kicking papers everywhere and sloshing her drink.
“Bad cat!”
He scurried into the kitchen, out of sight. A distinct thud followed, which meant Wolfgang was up to no good.
“I should’ve sent you off to the Nameless One.” Quinn shoved the remaining flyers aside and nabbed the flashlight from the end table. “You’d make an amazing hat, and there’d be enough fur left to make a stole, the perfect ensemble to compliment her plastic face.”
She flicked on the flashlight and shuffled into the kitchen, ignoring how the light made all the shadows twist and scuttle on the walls and ceiling. Broken bones might bother her, but the dark never had.
Wolfgang expectantly stood at the back door. He meowed, high and plaintive. Nothing looked out of place. Whatever had made the thud wasn’t in the kitchen. Maybe the wind had blown a loose branch against the house.
“What, you’re a snow leopard now? There’s no fancy feline feast waiting out there for you.”
Wolfgang rubbed his cheek against the doorframe, circled, and meowed again.
Thud. The entire door shook.
Quinn jumped. That was no branch. All the horror movies she loved to watch and ridicule flashed to mind, a lot less funny now. Alone in the woods. Killer storm. No electricity. No connection to the outside world.
Wolfgang’s purr rumbled, and he slid his face over the jamb again. The noise hadn’t spooked him even a little, and animals always sensed evil. Wolfgang had had no problem detecting it in Molly.
She squared her shoulders. No one would be roaming around in a blizzard. An animal had probably knocked the trashcan into the door, and a quick look would ease any worry. At the first glimpse of fur or fang—or red, glowing eyes—she’d go for the door slam.
Pushing Wolfgang back with one foot, she cracked open the door.
Wind exploded in, ripping the doorknob from her grip and firing snow and ice into her eyes. The door banged into the wall, and the storm’s full force rushed inside. Quinn scrambled for the knob and stopped, frozen by more than the sudden blast of cold.
A man filled the entryway from threshold to frame, dark as the nightfall behind him. Steam drifted from his bare head. Frost coated his short, sable hair, and even in the flashlight beam, his complexion held an unhealthy blue-gray hue. One hand was anchored to the doorpost in a white-knuckled grip. The other brandished a wicked as sin knife.
She shone the light on his face, and her stomach roller-coastered. Her demon. The one who’d haunted her nightmares years ago and then abruptly bailed, never to return. No matter what face he wore, his death-black, abysmal eyes were unforgettable.
Or were her delusions returning with a vengeance?
“Get out of my way.” His chest heaved, and he lurched forward, the knife pointed at her. His guttural words erased any suspicion that he might be another hallucination. He was too present, too solid to be anything but real.
Merde. He was real.
How long have you been writing?
Growing up in the boonies, I had to find ways to entertain myself after I’d read all the books on hand, so I turned to writing my own stories when I was in my teens. I wouldn’t call them good stories and they are best kept in a shoebox in the deepest, darkest recesses of the attic. Those early scratchings should probably be burned to avoid becoming blackmail material.
What inspired you to write The Dreamcaster Series?
A dream started the whole thing. Appropriate, huh? 😊 I dreamed of Kalila from Wonderfully Wicked, standing in a café with Lydon standing menacingly behind her, and I had to know why he was stalking her. Then I started plotting, and as more characters come out of the shadows, I find I must write their stories too.
Did you always plan for it to be a series?
Once I started writing Wonderfully Wicked, I knew there was too much in this supernatural world of dreams and nightmares that I wanted to explore to include in a single book. And as I fall in love with the broken characters, I want them all to experience their own HEA. It wouldn’t be fair to leave them all hanging, right?
What was the weirdest thing you had to google while doing research?
I did Google some angelic language, which was both weird and interesting. I thought about using a bit since Zaire knows how to speak in angel/demon tongue, but I didn’t want readers stumbling over how to pronounce words like oxex and gmicalzo. But I’ll definitely name my next cat zvrza.
This series would make some great movies. Would you want to turn your books into movies or TV shows?
Ooh, thanks for saying that! I’d choose a long-running TV show like Supernatural – with awesome (and hot) guys, spooky stuff, action, fun times, and romance. Maybe Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki could find a new acting home. 😊
Which of your characters do you relate to most and why?
They all have a piece of me stitched into them, but I relate most to Kalila from Wonderfully Wicked and Quinn from Dangerously Dark. Kalila is guarded with people she doesn’t know well or trust (like me), but I’m also an idealist like Quinn. And like both of them, I’m not afraid to fight for what’s important to me when necessary. Ka-pow!
What is a secret about you that nobody else knows?
I’d be on Dancing with the Stars if I could partner with Val Chmerkovskiy. And dancing (especially in public) sooooo isn’t my thing.
What book have you read too many times to count?
The Magic Garden by Gene Stratton Porter. It’s antiquated, beautiful and bittersweet, and a rescued treasure from my grandmother’s library. I’m not usually prone to waterworks, but this story gets me. Every time.
What is the best piece of writing advice you ever received?
Keep writing, keep learning your craft, and never give up!
If you could hop into the life of any fictional character, who would it be and why?
Claire from Outlander because…Jamie. He’d be worth giving up a couple hundred years of technology.
What was one of the most surprising things you learned while creating your books?
In researching dreams, it was interesting how some people are so paralyzed by their dreams they can’t move and even have trouble breathing. It’s amazing how the subconscious (or is it some outside force?) can affect the body.
What do you like to do when you're not writing?
I have a day job which takes up an unfortunate amount of my time, but when I’m not writing or working, I’m reading, working out, or playing Assassin’s Creed surrounded by my adoring cats. It’s a superb life.
Are any of the things in your books based on real life experiences or purely all imagination?
My stories are a mixture of both—I think it’s impossible not to color my writing with my own life experiences—and as far as who and/or what are based off truth…I’ll never tell!
Thanks so much for having me! <3
Thank you for hanging out at my blog & answering all my questions!
Check out my review of the previous books in this AMAZING series!
To learn more about C.J. Burright and her books, visit her website.You can also find her on Goodreads, Pinterest, Facebook, and Twitter.
