“On a sultry southern night, beneath the full moon, the Demon Wind blows.”
It is said that on the night of a Demon Wind, Southern belles who don't stay inside will find themselves compromised, or even pregnant, with little memory of how they got to be in that state.
Jayden's beloved, yet overly superstitious grandmother hit her with that one about the time she reached puberty. As a result, Jayden wasn't at all surprised when she received a call from her grandmother warning to stay inside because the night was ripe for the Demon Wind to blow.
The Demon Wind was nothing more than an obscure local legend, and Jayden Parrish was rooted securely in reason and logic. She didn't believe in superstitions…
…until she awoke the following morning to find sand in her bed. Sand, and the memory of the most erotic dream she'd ever experienced. A dream in which she had made uninhibited, passionate love on the beach with a man who had come to her from the sea.
Was it a dream? A figment of her imagination? Or was it something else?
This story was previously published elesewhere. It has been expanded and re-edited for release with Total-e-bound.
General Release Date: 26th November 2007
Jayden Parrish stood in front of the refrigerator with the door open as she smoothed the glass containing more ice than lemonade across her face and neck. The condensation from the glass dripped onto her chest and ran into the cleavage between her breasts. Growing up in the south, she should have been used to the sultry summer days but the extreme humidity sapped her energy, leaving her lethargic. The air felt so thick it was an effort to draw it into her lungs. If she didn’t feel honour bound to remain near the elderly grandmother who had raised her, Jayden would have moved to a less humid climate years ago. Her grandmother was the only person in her life that had always been there for her, the only person who had never let her down, and Jayden loved her dearly. As she saw it, putting up with bit of discomfort in the summer was a small price to pay for all the sacrifices her grandmother had made for her.
Hot and cranky, so at odds with her normally easygoing personality, the intrusive ringing of the telephone irritated the hell out of her. Reluctant to leave the coolest spot in her small beach cottage, Jayden closed the refrigerator door and went to the kitchen wall phone.
“Hello,” she answered.
“I’m just checking to make sure you’re home dear,” her grandmother explained. “The weather is ripe for a tonight and I wanted to warn you to stay inside after dark.”
Jayden rolled her eyes heavenward and prayed for patience. Her grandmother was the sweetest, most loving person in the world, and generous to a fault. She was also obsessively superstitious, a personality quirk which appeared to be growing worse with age.
“I’m fine, Grams,” Jayden responded. “It’s hotter outside than inside and I have no desire to go anywhere.”
“That makes me feel better. You just stay inside and you’ll be okay.”
“That’s what I plan to do. I found the new mystery novel I’ve been looking for, so I’m going to turn in early and read in bed.”
“You promise? You’re not just humouring an eccentric old lady?”
“I promise, Grams,” Jayden insisted. The relieved sigh on the other end of the line was unmistakable. While she might have been humouring her grandmother to ease her mind, Jayden also meant what she said. At the moment, she didn’t have the energy to do more than curl up with her book in the one air-conditioned room in the cottage.
“Okay. I’ll let you go, but give me a call in the morning.”
“As soon as I get up,” Jayden promised. “Why don’t I pick you up around twelve-thirty, and maybe we’ll stop for a late lunch after your doctor’s appointment?”
“I’d like that,” her grandmother answered, then added, “I love you, Jay.”
“I love you too, Grams.”
Jayden’s grandmother hit her with that one about the time she reached puberty, claiming many a Southern Bell lost their virtue on a night of the . The warning was the least annoying superstition in her grandmother’s repertory. She only heard that one a couple of times each summer. Even as a young teen, it hadn’t taken Jayden long to figure out the old superstition was nothing more than a scare tactic designed to keep young girls from sneaking out at night.
With a rueful shake of her head and an indulgent chuckle, Jayden finished the lemonade in her glass and returned to the refrigerator for a refill before heading towards her bedroom.
The ancient window air conditioner groaned and sputtered as it struggled in vain to cool the small room. While the room wasn’t cool, it was decidedly less humid than the rest of the cottage. Slipping out of her sandals, she placed her glass on the bedside table next to the novel Jayden hoped she would find so engrossing that she’d forget about the oppressive heat.
Preparing to take a quick shower to cool off before curling up with her book, Jayden unbuttoned her blouse. The few times she wasn’t displeased with her less than ample breasts was when it was extremely hot and her adequate but firm breasts made wearing a bra unnecessary…at least while she was at home.
The air conditioner began to vibrate with a metal against metal clatter. It sputtered, coughed, then died. “Please, not today,” Jayden groaned. Every time this happened, she promised herself that she’d replace the damn thing, but the weather always changed or something more pressing developed to eat up the extra money. Not bothering to re-button her blouse, Jayden merely tied the front together under her breasts, slipped her feet into her sandals, and headed toward the front door.
Your guess is as good as mine. I'm still trying to figure that out.
I began creating stories and characters before I learned how to write. I was one of those weird little kids with and overactive imagination. If I didn't have a real person to play with, I created my own playmates and the adventures that we shared. I can't remember a time when I didn't write and can't imagine a time when I won't. Why has my primary focus to date been short stories and novellas? Because like most women today, I have a full time day job. I prefer to read shorts during the week because once I get engrossed in a book, I can't put it down. Not good if you have to go to work the next morning. I saved the novels for the weekends, as did the majority of my reader friends. They too preferred anthologies or short stories because they can get through them in an evening and get to bed at a reasonable hour before going to work the next morning.
The only problem was, until the past few years, the market for short stories, novellas, and anthologies with the standard print publishers were limited. So, I started writing my own. And then I discovered a whole new world…e-publishing.
Reviewed by Simply Romance Reviews
Demon Wind is a very sexy erotic contemporary paranormal romance. It may be a novella, but it sure packs a lot of story (and hot sex) in between the pages. Kay Wilde wove a tantalizing tale with a wonderful...
Read more reviews
Add to Wishlist
Read a Sample
Send as a Gift
Available in:
epub, pdf 
Facebook
Twitter
Newsletter