Dear lovely readers,
Happy New Year 2025! 🎉 What better way to start the year than with a steamy romance between a clever boy in disguise and his demon lord husband? I'm thrilled to announce that "A Heart Disguised," the first book in the Demon Lords of Aethoria series, is finally here!
Meet Robin Aldercrest, forced to masquerade as a bride to the terrifying (and terrifyingly handsome) Duke Darius. What starts as a desperate deception becomes a dangerous game of hearts when our quick-witted hero finds himself falling for the very demon lord he's trying to fool.
A Heart Disguised has:
A clever boy in gorgeous gowns
A demon lord who sees through every deception (or does he?)
Steamy romance and witty banter
Magic and demons
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A Note about Paperback Versions
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A Heart Disguised
(Released Date: January 16th)
Fainting spells, flowing gowns, and falling for a demon lord? This ‘bride’ never signed up for that.
Whoever said “marriage is an adventure” clearly never had to wed a demon lord while masquerading as a woman. I’m Robin Aldercrest, and despite being blessed—or cursed—with the visage of a delicate flower, deceiving the Duke of Lunaria is proving more challenging than taming a wild griffon.
My esteemed father decided to solve our family’s predicament—the demon king’s demand for a bride—by offering me up to Duke Darius, a notorious demon lord rumored to possess not only massive horns, but also an impressive… stature and “sword” to match. The dire consequence? Should His Grace uncover my true nature, my family might find themselves adorning the castle’s pikes. A trifling matter, to be sure, especially for a sheltered, fainting-prone whelp like me.
Now, I find myself ensconced in a foreboding fortress of gleaming stone and shadowy corridors, with a husband as terrifyingly beautiful as he is perceptive. Each touch ignites my skin like wildfire, and his molten gold eyes seem to peel away my pretenses faster than I can erect them. I arrived intending to play the role of the most convincing jilted wife in history, but now I face a far graver peril: I fear I may be falling for him. And in this battle of wits against a demon who can see through deception as if it were gossamer, I’m beginning to think my heart isn’t the only thing I stand to lose—if I don’t faint first, that is.
A Heart Disguised is a tale of deception and desire, featuring a boy in a gown finding unexpected love in the arms of his terrifying demon husband. It’s a story of wit battling against magic, where attraction blossoms within the opulent halls of an extravagant castle.
Content warning: Contains explicit sexual content, cross-dressing, and explores themes of deception and power imbalance. For mature audiences only.
NOTE: A Heart Disguised is part of the Demon Lords of Aethoria Series. Each couple’s story unfolds across two books, culminating in a satisfying HEA.
Teaser
The duke shifted the conversation to a subject that made my heart seize. “Now, about our wedding,” he began, and the word hung in the air like an executioner’s axe, ready to fall.
I clutched my wineglass like a lifeline, pleading silently for time. Let it be months from now, I begged the universe, years even. Enough time for me to learn to breathe in this corset or perhaps grow gills.
“To be held in a week’s time,” the duke continued, as if he had plucked my silent prayer right from my mind and decided to use it as kindling.
I nearly choked on air. A week? My vision swam, and I forced myself to take a breath that didn’t sound like it was my last. “Your Grace,” I stammered, grasping at straws like a drowning man clutching at passing fish. “Surely even that is too soon for… for proper attire. A dress must be made!”
He nodded sagely, a glint in his eye that made me wonder if he could read minds after all. “Indeed, which is why I’ve already commissioned Lunaria’s finest couturier for your gown. They began work the moment our union was decreed.”
My mind raced—how could he have known my size? My measurements? Was this part of his demonic abilities? Panic fluttered in my chest like a caged bird trying to escape through my ribs.
“They will arrive tomorrow morning for your final fitting,” he said smoothly, and I saw it then—the faint curve of his lips, the amusement dancing in his eyes. He was enjoying this! The thought of fittings and measurements seemed to delight him as much as it terrified me. “A week is more than enough time for any final adjustments.”
“But there’s no need,” I protested weakly. “Meredith has all my measurements; they can simply ask her.”
Darius leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with an intensity that made me want to sink into my seat. “Nonsense. We must ensure everything fits perfectly. Perhaps you’ve lost or gained weight during your journey. No, I insist on a proper fitting.”
I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry. “Surely that’s not necessary—”
“I’ll be there myself,” he declared, “to see that it’s done properly.”
My eyes widened in horror. “Your Grace!” I squeaked, my voice reaching a pitch I didn’t know I possessed. “A lady can’t possibly allow men to… to see her being fitted!”
His laugh was rich and warm. “There’s no need for such modesty, my dear. We demons are quite accustomed to such things. Besides,” he added, his voice dropping to a silky purr, “we are to be husband and wife. We’ll be sharing a bed, seeing each other in various states of undress…”
I choked on air, my face burning hotter than the fires of whatever demon realm he hailed from. The thought of sharing a bed with the duke, of him seeing me without my carefully constructed disguise, sent waves of panic crashing through me.
Desperate to change the subject, I blurted out, “Perhaps we can also have them tailor some trousers and shirts? For riding and such… and for travel.” I held my breath, hoping he wouldn’t question why a lady would need such attire.
He considered this for a moment, his eyebrow arching in a way that made me wonder if I’d just given myself away. “Indeed? You enjoy riding, then?”
“Oh, yes,” I lied, perhaps a tad too enthusiastically. In truth, I’d never had the opportunity to learn, being a bastard son relegated to the shadows. But I’d watched enviously as my half-siblings took their lessons, and I’d dreamed of the freedom it represented. “Back home, I rode often. It’s one of my favorite pastimes. Almost as enjoyable as… embroidery.” I added the last part hastily, trying to salvage some semblance of ladylike interests.
“Very well,” he conceded with a nod, though his eyes sparkled with something that looked suspiciously like mischief. “I will speak with the couturier about your entire wardrobe. You shall have all you require—from the finest silk gowns to the sturdiest riding breeches.”
A flicker of relief coursed through me at the thought of donning trousers again, even if they were to be worn under the guise of riding attire. It was a small victory, but a victory nonetheless. Perhaps I could even convince him I needed them for… vigorous needlepoint sessions?
My brief moment of triumph was shattered as the duke rose from his seat with the fluid grace of a predator. I watched, frozen, as he prowled toward me, his eyes never leaving mine. My heart, already working overtime, decided to audition for the position of war drummer in an army of panicked pixies.
He slid into the chair beside me, and I went as stiff as week-old bread. His proximity sent waves of tension rolling through my body, each one threatening to crack my carefully constructed facade.
“My dear,” he purred, his voice a velvet caress that made my skin prickle. His hand reached out, and I braced myself for claws or fire or whatever demonic touch he might inflict. Instead, his fingers brushed my cheek with surprising gentleness.
I held my breath, wondering if this was how a mouse felt just before the cat pounced. His face inched closer, and I silently bid farewell to my short, deception-filled life. But instead of fangs, I heard a soft chuckle.
“I must admit,” the duke murmured, his breath fanning across my face like a warm summer breeze—if summer breezes could make one’s insides quiver. “I did not expect my bride to be quite so… enchanting.”
Enchanting? Me? Had he perhaps mistaken me for one of the ornate candelabras? The very idea that this demon lord found me—a masquerading male with all the grace of a newborn foal—enchanting was so absurd, I almost laughed. Almost.
“You are rather delicate,” he continued, his voice dropping to a register that made my toes curl in my ill-fitting slippers. “I do hope you can handle me in our marital bed.”
Oh, sweet merciful heavens. If the floor could kindly open up and swallow me whole right now, that would be splendid. My knees went weak, and not in the romantic way described in Rosalind’s forbidden novels.
Before my brain could stop my treacherous mouth, I blurted out, “Is it true?”
Darius arched an eyebrow, amusement dancing in his golden eyes. “What exactly do you wish to know, my curious little bride?”
I swallowed hard, my eyes betraying me as they flicked downward. “Your, um… size?” The words came out as a squeak that would have made a mouse proud.
His chuckle rumbled through the room. “Ah, you’ll just have to wait and see, won’t you?”
Before I could even process his words, let alone stammer out a response or perhaps fake a sudden and convenient fainting spell, Duke Darius captured my lips with his own. This was nothing like the chaste kisses I’d imagined in my naïve daydreams. No, this was a tempest, fierce and wild, and I was a leaf caught in its winds.
His lips were surprisingly soft against mine, a sensation that was quickly overshadowed as he pressed his body against me. The hard planes of his chest and the unyielding strength of his arms confirmed what I’d suspected—his body was as hard as the stone walls of his keep.
Then, to my utter bewilderment, he began to move his lips, teasing and toying with mine in a way I couldn’t have imagined possible. The gentle scrape of his fangs against my lower lip was a reminder of his otherworldly nature that both terrified and thrilled me.
Suddenly, I felt something probing at the seam of my lips. What was he doing? Was he trying to push into my mouth? In my shock and confusion, I gasped, inadvertently granting him access. His tongue slipped inside, and I found myself drowning in an entirely new sensation.
As the duke’s tongue invaded my mouth, my brain decided it had had quite enough of this nonsense and promptly shut down. His tongue, hot and insistent, explored every crevice, leaving no corner untouched. I tried to resist, my own tongue feebly attempting to push his out, but it was like trying to stop a tidal wave with a pebble.
Duke Darius only seemed encouraged by my weak resistance, pressing deeper, his kiss becoming more demanding. I was pushed back against the seat, trapped between the soft cushions and the unyielding demon lord. The sensation was overwhelming—wet, hot, and utterly foreign. Our breaths mingled, but it was less a dance and more a conquest, with the duke setting a pace that left me dizzy and breathless.
My body melted against my will, responding to his touch in ways I didn’t know were possible. Was this what it felt like to be a candle, burning at both ends? No, this was more akin to being a moth, helplessly drawn to a flame that would surely consume me whole.
And consume me it did. This must be some demonic practice—a demon’s kiss. It was raw and primal, unlike anything I’d ever experienced or even imagined. The sinful intimacy of it made me certain I’d be struck down at any moment for participating in such an act. Yet like that helpless moth, I couldn’t pull away. I couldn’t even think of resisting as I drowned in the heat of his mouth, lost in this forbidden dance.
The world around us faded away, and all I could focus on was the feel of his lips against mine, the careful dance of his fangs that never quite pierced skin, and the intoxicating taste that I couldn’t quite place—something wild and ancient, like lightning captured in a bottle. It was terrifying and exhilarating all at once, and I was lost in sensations I had no name for, caught in the thrall of this demon’s kiss.
When he finally drew back, I was left gasping like a fish out of water, my lips tingling and my mind reeling. The duke regarded me with a satisfied smirk that made my insides do a complicated acrobatic routine.
“Expect this every day once we’re wed,” he said, his voice laced with dark promise.
Still dazed from the kiss that had apparently turned my bones to jelly, I barely registered his next words. “Considering it’s your first day in Lunaria,” he said, drawing me to my feet with an ease that reminded me of his inhuman strength, “it’s best you have an early night.”
With a wave of his hand, a servant materialized at my side. As I was guided away from the dining room, my mind replayed the kiss on an endless loop. One thought crystallized through the haze: I, Robin Aldercrest, was in way over my head. And the worst part? A tiny, traitorous part of me was thrilled by it all.
(Released Date: January 16th)