Enter the basement's forgotten darkness and reach for the light of redemption. Find love and passion in an unlikely mate. Dare to look beyond what you see.
Emme has inherited her estranged father's estate and vows to clean out all the evil he left behind. In the corner of the basement, she discovers one of the greatest of his forbidden treasures: Nazan, a demon that's been trapped there since she fled the house as a teen. The broken demon is circled by salt, emaciated and bears scars left by years of cruelty and torture. A caring woman who believes all creatures have their place in the world, Emme undertakes the arduous task to mend the wounds done to his soul, mind and bodyto return him to his rightful state and place. Despite her unsettling attraction to him, a fiery heat occurring every time he touches her, she is determined to set the demon free.
But he has other plans.
"...This book had me teary eyed from the get go. Both Emme and Nazan had been abused mentally and physically by the same man. Her father. Both start to remember the past and hold onto each other and try to come to terms with it. Together they begin to heal old wounds. Did you know that it is hard to read with tears in your eyes? I have to recommend this book to everyone I know."
-Megan, Reviewer for Bitten By Books
"A strangely compelling tale, Demon in the Basement captures you and pulls you in as the past and its effect on the present and the future is revealed. Emme is an intriguing heroine as she strives to right past wrongs. Nazan is reminiscent of the ugly duckling as he comes back into his own. A delightfully satisfying tale, Demon in the Basement is sure to touch your heart and engage your emotions. Pick this one, sit back, relax and be prepared to be surprised and entertained. Anastasia Rabiyah knows how to satisfy her readers."
-Elise Lyn, EcataRomance.com
Emme found the demon in the basement, curled in on himself under a pile of crumpled newspapers. Someone had drawn a circle around him with a heavy layer of salt. She edged closer to the white, patchy line and frowned. With time, the humidity made the granules crust together. "I'll have to get down on my hands and knees and scrape it with a putty knife," she muttered.
The newspapers rustled, and she saw one black eye in the shadows between the pages. A ticklish sensation ran down her skin, the length of her limbs, and lingered in her breasts, perking her nipples. She gasped, startled. "Oh, not yet then," she whispered. "There's too much to do. I don't have time for demons right now." She twisted a lock of straight, black hair around her finger and let it go, the tendril falling back into place. The narrow woman spun around. She started sweeping again, trying to ignore the burning urge to stare at the being occupying the room with her.
The cobwebs in the corner of the basement were the worst part. Spiders frightened her. She squealed when a black widow scrambled across the dusty, wooden floor. "Oh, oh, oh!" she kept repeating. Behind her, the newspapers crackled, and she felt the demon watching, his hot gaze glancing over her backside like sweaty palms. Emme flailed her hands in the air to calm her nerves. She backed away from the black, eight-legged monster and rifled in the pile of discards for a container. Closing her eyes, she sucked in a dry breath, and twisted the lid off a jelly jar. After kneeling, she swept the spider into the jar with the dustpan, careful not to squish it. "There now."
She felt the demon's searing gaze following her up the stairs. When she crossed the empty parlor, the jar held at arm's length, the air became cold in an unnatural way. Ignoring the sensation, she exited through the front doorway. Outside, she bent beside the pile of leaves she'd raked yesterday and let the black widow go. It walked away on spindly legs. She turned her head and smiled at the basement window, wondering if the demon saw her, certain that he was trying to, and a little thrilled at finding him. Her father had rarely kept anything so extraordinary for long before he lost his temper and killed it. That much she remembered.
She liked to think she was not her father's daughter.