The Devil and Via - E-book available now from Samhain Publishing; Now also In Print Sun, sex and Satanism—and Via is the chief sacrifice… The seventh child of a seventh child, Via has always lived a life just shy of normal. That life is also a mess. She hears things other people don’t, and has prophetic dreams she can never quite remember. Eager to escape, she jumps at the chance for a cushy summer job in Italy—where her life goes from merely messy to downright disastrous. Taxi driver Giancarlo knows what it’s like to feel vulnerable, and can bear any burden—except pity. Rescuing Via from the clutches of a nightmarish satanic cult comes easy. Shielding his heart from her determination to become his lover is a different story. But in her irresistible arms, he begins to believe it’s worth the risk.

Then Via discovers why she is the target of Marinuzzi, a murderous Satanist. He wants her newly unleashed psychic gifts for himself, and he’ll do anything to convince her to give them up, including trap Via into an impossible choice.

A choice that would save Giancarlo’s life—but take away his reason to live.

Warning: Contains edge-of-the-seat sexual tension, some adult language and scenes of satanic orgy.
 

Reviews:

"Marie Treanor can always be counted on to deliver something that is different from the rest, and The Devil And Via is another of such story...a gripping paranormal romantic suspense" - Mrs Giggles, Rating 76

""an interesting, angst-filled story." - Nannette, Joyfully Reviewed

"highly charged emotional and sensual...I thoroughly enjoyed this very sexy, exciting book. I couldn't wait to read the end, but once I had I wanted to read it all again. Which means I have to look for more books by this author!" - 5 red roses, Anne, Red Roses for Authors

"I read The Devil and Via from cover to cover without stopping, forgetting my reality because I was so enraptured with the tale. Marie Treanor has penned another fascinating paranormal tale. From the first page the reader will be captivated and racing along to learn the denouement. Plenty of action, character, and plot twists and turns are to be expected in this book. I will always read Marie Treanor’s novels because I know what I will find from page one: a good comfortable read into which the reader can settle with enjoyment and suspension of disbelief; an unexpected romance; a sense of humour that is subtle yet engaging; and a satisfying outcome. Such is certainly the case in The Devil and Via." - 4 1/2 kisses, Frost, Two Lips Reviews

"The Devil and Via is a fascinating story on a number of levels. Ms. Treanor requires the reader to suspend disbelief... and then makes it possible to do so. The few sexual encounters Via and Giancarlo have are totally HOT..." - Marcy Arbitman, Just Erotic Romance Reviews

Excerpts:

(First, the nightmarish one! Scroll down for the romantic one!)

    The girl knew she was going to die. She’d given up hope of anything else. Her abused body, in its white sacrificial robes, was tied to two crossed pieces of wood, so that she couldn’t move more than her head. Her ears were choked with the chanting of the dark-robed figures dancing before her, their white, inhuman faces lit grotesquely by the unforgiving beams of car headlights. It was impossible to remember now that she knew some of them, that most of them were no older than her. Something—someone—purely evil had turned all those young people, little more than children, into callous monsters happy to kill one of their own for some obscure gain.

    The girl knew their gain would be very little. It was he, the older one in his black, hooded robe standing so still in front of her, who would greedily steal all she had. It was he who had changed these kids from weird teenagers into murderers. Her mind acknowledged this with curious detachment. She couldn’t even feel afraid or sad or angry anymore that her life was about to be cut off so prematurely. She just wanted it over. She wanted it to stop and never happen again.

    Taking a huge, deep breath, she hurled her mind as far from her as it could go, using every last gasp of strength in her body and will to tell the world what was being done to her, what was going on under the noses of her own friendly, charming people. Someone must hear, someone must tell and stop it. Stop him…

    He was strong already, she thought, as he turned quickly toward her. He had sensed the movement, the broadcast of her mind, even if he couldn’t read it. Well, she could read his. With her death, he would take her gifts, make it twice as hard for whoever followed her—and she knew there would be others. He wouldn’t stop now…

    The chanting reached some kind of crescendo. It was his moment. Through the dark tunnel of the cowl, she saw his teeth gleam briefly. Then his hand rose. The big silver knife flashed in the headlights and drove straight into her heart.

    Several hundred miles away, in a quiet village on the east coast of Scotland, Via sat bolt upright in bed, panting. Sweat trickled down between her breasts. Her heart was drumming like a rabbit’s. Another dream—a bad one.

    With trembling hands, she pushed back her hair, frowning with the effort of concentration. It was slipping away from her already, and yet she was aware of the importance. She really had to keep this one… Someone was frightened. A girl…? Something bad was happening to her, to the world… Taking a deep breath, she slid out of bed, went to the window and tugged back the curtains.

    The night was cloudy, obliterating the stars and the full moon. She could hear the patter of rain on the window and on the ground below. She could just make out the black horizon where the sea met the sky and, closer in, on the edge of the cliff, the old graveyard with its variety of flat and standing headstones and its old-fashioned crypts. Up at the edge of the promontory, where the fence now ran, a so-called witch had been executed in a sixteenth century witch-hunt, and a few years ago, a young English tourist had fallen tragically to her death.

    Was that something to do with her dream? She didn’t know. It had completely gone, leaving only an unpleasant sense of unease and inadequacy.

    She was used to that.

*

    He said, “Do you know how much I’ve wanted to kiss you?” She stumbled. Her grip tightened as she regained her balance, and he added softly, “All over?”

    Her laughter was a little breathless. Under his finger on her wrist, her pulse raced, and he knew he still affected her. He felt exultant. If he got any harder, he wouldn’t be able to walk. But he made no effort to hide his erection, and when he saw her gaze flicker down to it and linger, he was fiercely glad.

    “So, where is this apartment of yours?” he asked as they passed the café.

    “Next turning,” she said, and coughed a little as if to hide the trembling of her voice. Was she scared of him or—surely not now—just as desperate as he was to make love?

    “Are you going to invite me in?” he asked.

    She smiled nervously. “For coffee?” she teased.

    “I was thinking of the hot sex again, but coffee’s a start.”

    She laughed, and he caressed the soft skin between her thumb and forefinger. At the side of the bakery, she led him through a gate and up a rickety flight of steps to a tiny garden. There, while he gazed over the darkened roofs, she unlocked the French doors.

    “Quick,” she said, “before the mosquitoes get in.”

    He brushed past her into the house. She snapped the light on, saying, “Coffee, then?”

    “Stuff the coffee,” said Giancarlo roughly, reaching for her with both hands. Her shoulders were soft and warm under his fingers, setting the blood pounding afresh in his tortured body. Her green eyes looked huge as they gazed up into his, betraying hope as well as anxiety and, when he slid his fingers under the straps of her dress, a desire surely as fierce as his own. “I want my kiss,” he whispered, easing the straps away so they fell down her arms. With one finger, he traced the neckline of her dress as it dropped lower across her breasts, stroking as far as the bra would let him.

    Her skin was flushed, her breathing too quick and unsteady. He bent his head, noticing with fierce triumph that her lips parted for him, as if of their own volition. A moment longer, he let his lips hover there, increasing the anticipation. Then, closing his palm over her breast, he took her mouth in his.

    A sigh that was almost a moan broke from her. She opened for him at once, sweetly responsive. She tasted of coffee and tiramisu and something simply Via, and he couldn’t get enough of her. He caught her tongue around his, twisting, dancing, drawing it into his own mouth. As he deepened the kiss, she moaned again, pushing her body into him so hard that he stumbled back against the door. Her lips and teeth were suddenly wild, sucking and biting him to insanity while her body writhed against him.

    Without breaking the astounding kiss, he grasped her by the waist, lifting her, turning her so he could hold her captive against the door and grind his hardness into her. At the same time, he pushed down her bra, seeking and finding her pebbled nipples, stroking over and over with his thumb, then pinching till she all but sobbed. Her hands were on his back, burrowing under his shirt, running all over his naked skin until he wondered if he was actually capable of drawing back now.

    As if she heard his desperate thought, she gasped against his lips. “You said if you kissed me, you wouldn’t stop.”

    “That was last week,” he said, and dived back into her mouth. He roved his hands over her hips, down her thighs, feeling with ferocious joy every tiny movement of her responsive flesh. His fingers caught the hem of her dress and tugged.

    Tearing his lips free of hers for a moment, he whispered, “Do you know what I want to do?”

    Laughter trembled on her swollen lips. “I could hazard a guess!”

    He reached between her legs, making her gasp again. She was so hot, the wispy cotton covering her so wet, that he groaned with the genuine anguish of utter loss. But he wouldn’t stop, not yet.

    “I want to push my cock right inside you now, fuck you till you beg for mercy. Would you like that, Via? Would you?”

    Her fingers grasped his arms. She pushed against the hand on her pussy, twisting. “Stop talking, Giancarlo,” she said shakily. “Just do it!”

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