RELEASE BLITZ: “Soul of the Imperian” by Jessamyn Kingley.


Book Title: Soul of the Imperian (D’Vaire, Book 26)

Author: Jessamyn


Cover Artist: LJ Anderson of
Mayhem Cover Creations

Release Date: December 9,

Genre: M/M Fantasy/Paranormal Romance

Tropes: Enemies to lovers, fated mates

Themes: Fate, love

Heat Rating: 3 flames

Length: 96 664

It is not a standalone story,
but does not
end on a cliffhanger.

Check out the D’vaire Series
on Goodreads

Buy Links – Available in Kindle

Amazon US | Amazon UK

Demons are expected to
hate the Imperian, but what if he’s your mate?


Praetor Sashati Soriandras is adjusting to his wonderful
new life as part of the Council of Sorcery and Shifters. His new leader’s choice to leave the
demonic realm gained Sashati’s immediate approval. There is nothing there but dark

memories and a horrible legend about the butcher who ripped magic from the demons a
millennium ago.

After being banished to a tiny realm, Imperian
Paszratorabiel—or Paszra, as he prefers to be called—is waiting for his wings to grow back.
The minute he recovers, Paszra hunts for a place to bring his family so they can find mates.
When Paszra finds a planet full of interesting beings, the presence of demons is the only
thing he hates about his potential new home.

When Sashati and Paszra meet, neither man is happy to
learn they are mates. The demons blame Paszra for everything, while the Imperian despises
Sashati’s people. However, they share a tradition of not denying Fate. But to honor the way
their souls are connected, Paszra and Sashati must overcome much more than their initial
dislike of each other.


After they arrived in their office space, Sashati sprawled in
his office chair and opened the book Arch Lich Chander Daray had suggested would further
his education on the Council.

“Reading again?” Diyarta asked. Once forced into teaching,
Diyarta had left that life behind her for good. Her preference was to be in a gym sweating
rather than burying her nose in between pages.

“I’m an advisor to our leader. I cannot function in that role
if I don’t fully understand the Council.”

“Are you suggesting that I’m failing in my role as advisor?”
Diyarta asked.

“I believe we have different strengths. You have the ear of
the demons. You can advise Hexaniys on how to improve their lives. They are strangers to
me and him. In our former realm and here in the Council, advisors have areas of expertise. If
we were to study the same thing, our voices would be redundant.”

“You were so wasted as a guard in that palace,” Diyarta

“As long as I never have to return to such a role, I will have
no complaints.”

“The same cannot be said for our people. You want to be
an expert on the Council, but you cannot forget your place. Hexaniys lives with the Darays
because he is one now. You are not. Hexaniys is safe surrounded by sentinels.”

“So are the demons,” Sashati replied. “They live in the
Daray Sentinel Complex.”

“It is a temporary home, or at least it was supposed to be, I
believed. They want to embrace being demons, not be forced into training and the things
that sentinels love simply because the Imperator is mated to one.”

“No one has asked them to train. I do it because I like

“As do I,” Diyarta said.

“One reason the complex suits them is because of the
many classes the sentinels offer in the evenings and on weekends. It was supposed to be an
avenue for the demons to learn about the Council and to find something to give their lives
purpose. Instead, they shop and rest in their apartments. They will go to restaurants for
meals but not to the sentinels’ cafeteria.”

“I told you, they fear being lumped in with the

“They must find hobbies at the very least,” Sashati

“They are recovering from the atrocities they’ve

“Diyarta, they refuse to even explain what happened while
we were here at the behest of Masal’akra. How are we to help them if they will not discuss
the war?”

“Perhaps when the wounds are not so fresh, they’ll be
more forthcoming.”

“It has been many weeks,” Sashati said.

“They worry about you living with Hexaniys among the
sentinel leadership.”

It was a cause of disagreement that had slowly grown
between Sashati and Diyarta. The demons supposedly wanted Sashati to live among them,
but Hexaniys and the Darays had offered bedrooms to Sashati and Diyarta. His fellow
praetor had refused the invitation and gone to the Daray Sentinel Complex.

Sashati was torn between the two places and didn’t know if
he was right to stay near Hexaniys, but the demon refused to be dictated to by anyone. That
was a life they’d left behind, and the new Imperator gave them plenty of space to make
decisions for themselves. The problem, as far as Sashati could see it, was that the demons

wanted to do nothing. They spent money and complained to Diyarta instead of exploring
the Council.

“The guards of other leaders often elect to share homes or
land with them,” Sashati said.

“Demons must find their own path.”

“I’m entitled to do what I choose.”

“Just don’t forget that you’re a demon.”

“How could I ever do that?” Sashati asked.

“It’s easy to get swept away into this world of sorcery and
shifters, even though we differ from the others in this world. Our power is lost, and we must
never forget how that came to be or that there is no ability to regain it.”

“My hatred for the Imperian burns as brightly as it has
since the first time I heard his name,” Sashati growled. The Imperian inspired rage in him like
nothing else could, and he doubted any demon lamented the loss of their magic more than
Sashati. There was so much of it around them, and it pissed Sashati off to think that if it
weren’t for a single man, he’d be casting spells alongside his new allies.

“I wish I had been alive in those days. I would’ve slit his
throat myself.”

“Get in line, Diyarta,” Sashati retorted.

About the Author

Jessamyn Kingley lives in
Nevada where she begs the men in her head to tell her their amazing stories which she
dutifully writes it all down in what has become a small mountain of notebooks. She falls in
love with each couple and swears whatever book she wrote last is her absolute

Jessamyn is married and
working toward remembering to start the dishwasher without being distracted by the scent
of the magical detergent. For personal enjoyment, she aids in cat rescue while slashing and
gashing her way through mobs in various MMORPGs. Caffeine is her very best friend and is
only cast aside briefly for the sin better known as BBQ potato chips.

Visit her website

Join her Facebook group, Jessamyn’s Ruffian’s

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