Update— The randomizer chose Anne as the winner. I’ll be contacting her about her prize shortly. Thank you so much for stopping by!

Four leaf clovers, rainbows, leprechauns and Irish Cream are the first things that come to mind when I think of St. Patrick’s Day. All of the above are things that bring a smile to my face. So do prizes, friendship and new release news. For this girl, that’s like Christmas, a birthday and Halloween all in one day, lol.

To celebrate the acceptance of Sunlight’s Kiss by Siren Publishing, I’m giving one winner a swag bag and an ebook of either Azrael’s Light or Lacey Temptations-winner’s choice. By entering to win here, you are also earning another chance to win the KISS ME – I’M IRISH POT O’BOOKS GRAND PRIZE.

To enter my contest please read this excerpt from Azrael’s Light, (book 1 in the Demon Runners of Unearth) and tell me the color of Diane’s eyes in the comments below. Be sure to leave an email address to be counted for the Grand Prize also.

He tapped his fingers on the bar, waiting while a shapely bartender filled an order at the bar opposite him. The little human filled out her brown leather pants with some seriously sexy curves. He raised an eyebrow in appreciation as her backside discreetly swayed in time to the music.

When she turned around to face him, he was smacked in the face with an odd sense of familiarity. She stopped dead in her tracks and dropped the bottle of alcohol she’d been carrying. Standing frozen in place as a barely dressed waitress tried to get her attention, she stunned him. The scent of spilt vodka filled the air, and the pounding music paused.

“Boss? Are you okay? Hey? That piece of tall, dark, and handsome over there wants to speak with you.” The waitress tapped her on the shoulder and then walked off shaking her head. The brunette blinked the most stunning green eyes he’d ever seen and seemed to gather her wits as she waved the waitress off. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen a woman struck stupid by his presence. Yet, for a split second, he could have sworn he’d seen a glimmer of recognition in her eyes. But that was impossible.

As a mere human, she wouldn’t have the faintest idea that Death even existed, let alone stood impatiently in her club. She was the most intriguing woman he’d seen in centuries, if not longer. She seemed so very familiar, yet he doubted he would have forgotten a face as striking as hers. It was almost heart shaped with a little pointed chin and a bow-shaped mouth. Chocolate hair, darker than Abaddon’s murky abyss, framed her face and swung down past her shoulders. The tails of a miniscule white blouse were tied tightly just beneath her breasts, drawing his gaze to an enticing display of cleavage. A spark of green light drew his sight lower. A small emerald dangled from her belly button, calling him to press his mouth to the skin just above her low-riding pants.

Yet one alarming detail instantly dried his salivating mouth. Her Kor, the Fates’ signature glyph that should be visible on her forehead, was missing. She looked human, and smelled deliciously human, yet the hallowed symbol he spent his entire life recognizing and adhering to was missing. It made no sense. He spent his entire existence a slave to that symbol, and to find it simply…not there…on a human baffled him beyond belief. Had her fate not yet been determined, even at this late a time in her life? The thought of one day having to steal the breath from this lovely creature’s body made his chest tighten with an oddly uncomfortable feeling. He stomped the alien feelings into submission so he could get to work. He’d never been one to let a pretty face distract him. His vacation waited.