Cover Reveal: Lich Reaper’s Lament by Jessamyn Kingley
Lich Reaper’s Lament | Jessamyn Kingley
Release Date: December 8th, 2022
Cover Artist: LJ Anderson of Mayhem Cover Creations
Heat Rating: 3 flames
Length: 122,568 words
Amazon Series Link
A sorrowful reaper with a heart encased in ice. A lonely rock star who walked away from everything. What chance do they have at love?
Ripped apart by life, Lich Reaper Grymington Daray is drowning in sorrow. Each day, he strives to find the people responsible for killing his best friend, and he wishes his own existence had more meaning. The last thing on Grymington’s mind is finding the other half of his soul. While a loving family surrounds him, the coldness growing in his heart keeps him separated from joy.
Decades ago, Devlin Nero ran away from the world. Being a rock star was everything Devlin wanted, but it turned into a nightmare. Now, the enchanter-human hybrid is living alone and surrounded by nothing but fading memories. Desperate for happiness, Devlin makes his way to the Council of Sorcery and Shifters and winds up at a sanctuary designed for freaks like him.
On a fateful day, Grymington and Devlin discover they are mates. Sparks fly, and the two men venture forth to honor Fate’s choice for them. However, Grymington is too lost and much too fearful to allow Devlin near his tattered soul. Devlin wants love, but the Lich Reaper may not be able to offer it. If their confusing relationship isn’t enough, they have pasts to reconcile, and the future will not wait. It will be up to Grymington and Devlin to discover if they have a matebond worth saving.
NOTE: This is not a standalone story but does not end on a cliffhanger.
Strange feelings fluttered through Grymington that made little sense as he strode toward the great room, but the erection that tented his jeans the moment he put a sneaker into the space took him by surprise.
A rush of pumpkin spice filled his senses, and Grymington nearly smiled; he loved fall. But he was unnerved by the stiff dick in his pants and the knowledge of what a newly found sexuality meant for him. His gaze went unerringly to a stranger staring at Grymington with his mouth slightly ajar. The shocked expression didn’t mar the man’s masculine beauty. Nothing could disguise the sensuality in his pink lips or rob his electric blue eyes of their intensity.
Although there was a messiness to his hair, something in Grymington told him it was purposeful and nothing like the typically tousled mops of sentinels who refused to bother with grooming products or even running a comb through their tresses after training. The black strands hung in thick layers accented by the same blue of his magnificent irises.
Somehow, this man was Grymington’s mate. What the hell could Grymington offer anyone? How could he be responsible for a relationship? Then again, what kind of person would it make Grymington if he walked away from him?
“…and this is Lich Reaper Grymington Daray, though everyone calls him Grymmie,” Dra’Kaedan said. “Grymmie, this is Devlin D’Vaire.”
The rock star who’d mysteriously disappeared was Grymington’s mate, and the reaper could barely get his feet in motion again to move toward him.
The man was about five inches taller than Grymington and wearing faded jeans torn in several spots. Paired with the denim, the newest member of the D’Vaires wore a collarless button down which was half tucked into his pants.
The thin material hung loosely and nearly hid the thick dragonskin belt. His sleeves were rolled up, exposing tattoos over both forearms, but Grymington could not appreciate the art from such a distance. Grymington sidled fractionally closer and wondered what the fuck he was doing.
Devlin chuckled, and the throaty sound punched Grymington in the gut.
“Unreal,” the hybrid breathed out.
He was new to the Council and likely didn’t know that it was traditional to announce to loved ones the moment two mates met, so Grymington lifted his chin. The Lich Reaper wanted to run and had absolutely no clue how to handle this latest development in his life, but he would not be a coward.
“Dra’Kaedan, thanks for introducing me to my mate,” Grymington said.
The Grand Warlock blinked and whooped loudly.
“Fate’s sake, did everyone hear that?” he yelled.
Brogan slapped his hands over his ears. “Sensitive shifter hearing, Baby. I’m standing right fucking next to you, you don’t have to scream.”
Across from Grymington, Devlin licked his top lip in a way that made the reaper’s belly flop, then smirked. “A pleasure to meet you, Grymmie.”
“Yeah, great to meet you too,” Grymington murmured, his rush of bravery long gone.
With the left corner of his mouth still lifted wryly, Devlin bent down onto one knee and carefully lifted his hand toward Hekate, who padded close to sniff him.
“And who is this lovely lady?”
“That’s Hekate,” Daemon Lord Baxter Daray stated as he stalked into the room with his mate, Benton. “Grymmie’s dog.”
“I think he figured out that Hekate is a dog,” Benton muttered.
“You’ll never guess what,” Dra’Kaedan remarked and clenched his fists with excitement.
“Squirt, let Devlin and Grymmie get a chance to tell people things,” High King Aleksander said to the Grand Warlock.
For as long as Grymington had known the pair, they’d teased each other. While Dra’Kaedan had a plethora of nicknames for Aleksander, the warlock was always Squirt to the High King.
“The excitement might kill me, Tallosaur, but okay,” Dra’Kaedan replied and grabbed Grymington. He’d snagged Grymington so swiftly, the reaper nearly fell into the warlock who was holding him so tightly it was hard to suck in a breath. “Congratulations.”
“Why are we congratulating Grymmie?” Lich Sentinel Alaric Daray asked as he walked into the room.
“They haven’t told us yet,” Baxter complained.
Since Devlin was still on the floor with Hekate, who’d allowed the singer to smother her with pets, Grymington supposed it fell to him to make the announcement. Excitement was undoubtedly expected of him, but he couldn’t feel anything other than fear.
“Devlin is my mate,” Grymington stated as Dra’Kaedan released him.
Whether it was the fact that Grymington’s voice lacked any inflection or the surprise of his family gathering in the D’Vaire great room, silence reigned for several tense moments.
About the Author
Jessamyn Kingley lives in Nevada where she begs the men in her head to tell her their amazing stories which she dutifully writes it all down in what has become a small mountain of notebooks. She falls in love with each couple and swears whatever book she wrote last is her absolute favorite.
Jessamyn is married and working toward remembering to start the dishwasher without being distracted by the scent of the magical detergent. For personal enjoyment, she aids in cat rescue while slashing and gashing her way through mobs in various MMORPGs. Caffeine is her very best friend and is only cast aside briefly for the sin better known as BBQ potato chips.
Join her Facebook group, Jessamyn’s Ruffian’s
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