It’s a helluva job, but someone has to do it, and for Rhune it’s a small price to pay for his past sins. He’s taken a new name and a somewhat normal life. Except at night, when he transforms into a hellhound to take souls to the City of the Dead for purgatories legions to deliver them to Hell where they belong.

For fifteen centuries he’s lived in happy solitude until a paralegal with the most amazing eyes rear ends him in the small town of Rio Morden. He’s seen those eyes before, but it’s been years since the last time. Now she’s all grown up and involved in a murder trial that has its sights set on her becoming its next victim. What’s a hellhound to do? Surely not fall in love—and certainly not with a Dreamwalker. And is that all she is?

Mix in a diabolical lawyer and his lover, some Voodoo magic, and it’s a recipe for mayhem and murder. Can Rhune keep Hanna safe--or is she destined to be Hellhound Bound?

Absolutely captivating! I was completely enthralled from the very first page and found myself quite unable to put this book down! Hanna has suffered nightmares her entire life without ever knowing the true meaning behind them until chance crosses her path with Rhune, a hellhound who devours souls and delivers them to Hell. What follows is an entrancing journey with nonstop action with tons of mystery, intrigue, love, loss and truly spine tingling glimpses into the underworld. I was completely taken with this story and was left thinking about it for days after I finished! The flawless writing with exquisite details sent my imagination to new heights and my heart was set aflutter with the sweet and spicy love that bloomed between Rhune and Hanna. This is an absolute must read for anybody who likes Urban Fantasy, paranormal romance or just a good chiller with dark undertones! ~ Maia Silverdagger, Amazon Review

This is a fast moving story. Jerlo still manages to build a whole vivid world around the characters without sacrificing the pace. A reader can easily suspend reality and get lost in the action. The relationship between the two main characters, Rhune and Hanna, is powerful. ~ Amazon Customer Review


Hanna snagged the zipper of her skirt into the fabric of her panties three times before getting it done up properly. If she ended up in an accident before making it to the office, so be it. Wearing ripped underwear was the least of her worries. It took forever to fumble with the buttons of her blouse because her hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

How had Rhune managed to get into her apartment? He’d suddenly appeared in the alley. Then outside her windshield. Now this? Her world had turned into a cheap magic show, and tow-truck guy was completely to blame.

She picked up her briefcase, shot a fleeting glance around the kitchen, and stopped. But if I hadn’t met him, I’d most likely be dead. Hell! Gads! Stop saying that word, you idiot! This isn’t Hell. You’re going to work. You tell your story. Say you’re sick and go home. Winford will do the trial, and everything will go back to normal. Roger flew the coop. He got cold feet at the thought of having to testify and took off. That’s all you have to say.

After grabbing a week old bagel she could have used as a door stop, she was out the door. She checked her watch and groaned. Even if she took a cab, she’d be at least thirty minutes late—again—and about twenty bucks poorer. Counting last night’s fare home, she was running short of funds. The first thing she was going to do when she got to the office was to get reimbursed. Then she’d talk to Winford.

She raised her arm and flagged down a cab.

As the city streets went by, she tried to concentrate on the trial. The thought of speaking with Mr. Winford made the bagel she’d wolfed down solidify like a brick in her stomach. Would she be able to pull this off without Rhune’s help? Well, she had about five minutes to find out.

Staring out the cab’s window, she thought about Roger and the events that had followed since her trip to Rio Morden. One detail ran into another. Even her best analytical skills couldn’t sort out what was real and what wasn’t…except Rhune. He was real.

Her head pounded, and it was only eight forty-five in the morning.


“Where’s Simmons?”

Careful to keep her gaze averted, Hanna handed Winford the signed statement from her briefcase, hoping he didn’t notice the shaking of her hands. “I don’t know.” 

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

“I met with him. Took his deposition, and that was it.”

“Nothing else happened?”

“Well, my room at the motel was vandalized. I had to make a police report.”

He gave the paper a cursory glance before tossing it on his desk without a second look. “I’ve been trying to reach Simmons all morning. He’s not answering his cell.”

She shrugged and studied the family picture on his desk. “Maybe he got cold feet?”

“Without him taking the stand to support his evidence, we have nothing!”

She flinched at the anger in his voice. This trial was getting to him. He’s not the only one. “We have a signed statement. We can rely on that,” she added meekly.

“It’ll mean diddly-squat when the defendant’s counsel demands to cross-examine him on it.” He took a deep breath. “Look, I’m not mad at you. He’s vital to our case. We need to find him. Fast.”

“I know that, but I have no idea where he is. I went to Rio Morden as you asked. Got his statement, and I came home. Maybe we can ask for a continuance—”

He growled. “How do you think that’s going to look?”

Just as she suspected, this was turning out to be her fault. “He’s not going to be called today, probably not even by Friday. The defense has to put forth their evidence first.”

“Thanks for the news flash, Hanna. I know how a trial operates. We’re submitting his statement today. Once Andrews’ defense team reads it, they’re going to want to call Simmons as soon as possible. We’re taking no chances on losing this one. Now find him.”

Mr. Winford turned in his chair. The dismissal was rude and totally uncalled for.

She stood slowly, nursing her anger and frustration. “I went out of my way to travel to Rio Morden to get that statement for you. I don’t deserve to be treated like this. And it’s not my job to find someone.”

The instant the words left her mouth, she instantly regretted them. In fact, she’d never spoken to him like that before, but damn it, he pissed her off.

Winford’s chair squeaked as he shifted back around. His beady eyes narrowed, and his lips pursed until they were purple.

“W-What I meant to say is why do I have to look for him? We have private investigators on staff for that.”

His tone was so cold, she swore she saw mist come from his mouth. “Because you were the last one who saw him, that’s why. If he’s hiding, I’m sure you’ll be able to coax him out.”

Her moment of bravado flickered and winked out like a birthday candle caught in a hurricane. “How am I to get back to Rio Morden?”

He dug into a drawer of his desk, pulled out a credit card and tossed it in her direction. “That’s the office’s VISA. Rent one. Keep every receipt. We’re delivering preliminaries before the judge this morning, so that’ll buy us some time. I’ll give you a day before I submit his statement. Find Roger Simmons. Got it?”

Refusing to trust her voice, she merely nodded, grabbed the credit card, and rushed out of his office. With her heart hammering inside of her chest, she managed to make it to her desk without passing out.

She'd pulled off the lie—barely—and without Rhune’s help. Then reality kicked in. How do I find a guy who’s been eaten by a monster?

She needed tow-truck guy more than she cared to admit.