Sin Noble is the President’s personal assassin, due to her unique ability to kill. What most don’t know is, he’s also her brother, and not at all the cuddly or loving kind, either. After surviving a difficult childhood and life on the streets, she adapted to her murder-for-hire lifestyle by going against nature and using her reaping powers to take enemies of the President before their time. As Death incarnate, Sin has the unique ability to alter the Death Design—the pattern that decides who should die, and when.
But tempting fate doesn’t come without a price. Or a questionable relationship with alcohol.
When she is sent by her brother to assassinate a suspected blackmailer, Sin soon realizes that the situation is more complicated than he let on. She is partnered with another employee of the President, Liam Sanders, whom she hates with a passion. When push comes to shove, that passion soon turns into something her hormones can’t refuse, and Sin can’t live without.
Constantly running up against her Supernatural fathers and sarcastic sisters, Sin’s tangled web of a mission reveals that The Covert is once again preying on all of the world’s inhabitants. Sin is desperate to discover the truth before she decides to take another life outside the Death Design. Will she be able to accomplish the impossible, while being pursued herself by mysterious dark forces? One thing is certain: no can escape their destiny. All will be revealed in the Death Design.
Taking out a precut head of Reed, I taped it to the girl’s body, and then showed him. “I kind of like your legs better in this one.”
“I am your boss. So when I say that I need you to investigate, then you need to go do it,” he said, becoming impatient. Another thing that he had also developed since becoming the President: impatience. He wanted his way, a hundred percent of the time.
Placing his new body in a hidden box I had in my desk drawer, I finally met his dark brown-eyed gaze. “Look, just because you are the President of our wonderful country, doesn’t mean I am at your beck and call. I still have rights, you know. Not only that, I am not your pet killer. I don’t just go around sending people to the other side because you said so. It has to be their time, and you know how the process works.”
Before I could put more thought into it, I heard clicking noises coming from the bathroom, and then swearing, laced with a heavy British accent.
“You little, asshole, I know you purposely derailed us here so I would land in that tub!” The voice traveled from the open doorway.
Grabbing for my gun, I turned, facing the doorway. Never mind the fact I was still in my undergarments. This wasn’t looking good for me. After about two seconds, something small and black shuffled out of the bathroom. It was the ugliest thing I had ever seen. It was a small ball of black; a black tongue hanging from its mouth, and giant black eyes that reminded of the ones you found on flies. He smelled, too. “What the hell?” I gagged, taking a step back. The little thing growled, hopping forward, grunting as if it took a lot of effort.
Then a man came out of the bathroom, dressed in a black suit that had been custom made for his extremely fit body. His hair was a little mussed, but he used one elegant hand to smooth back the dark strands. His blue eyes focused on me, raising an eyebrow at what I was wearing.
“Did I interrupt something, love?”
“What do you think?” I snapped.
“My girls are so grouchy, Jordan.” He said, looking down at the ball of rot on the floor.
The thing just growled in response before shuffling over to my dress to lie down. “No! Get off that, you little asshole!” I shrieked, completely forgetting about the strange man standing three feet away from me. It just growled, then started to roll itself into the dress, squishing noises coming from the contact of its skin against the soft fabric. I gagged again.
“Jordan! You fat little bastard, get off of her dress.” When the thing came to a stop, it grunted in response. “His obedience classes are not going well.”
“That’s not a dog.” I said, appalled.
“He’s a hellhound.” The British man replied, taking a seat in a nearby chair. He crossed one leg over the other, his stylish mobster-like shoes grabbing my attention.
Raising an eyebrow I gestured with my gun. “That’s a hellhound? I thought they were bigger.” So, whoever this dude was, he was a demon. I should have been screaming, or looking for a saltshaker, not chatting it up with the fancy guy in shoes that the Godfather would be jealous of.
“He is a designer breed. He was a bad little necromancer, weren’t you?” he said, baby-talking to the ball of nastiness. The thing growled in response before licking its slimy paw.
N.L Hoffmann is a paranormal romance author that just completed her first series called The Daughters of Darkness. Currently she has three books out, Blood Slaves, Shadow Cursed and the new release, Death Design.
Hoffmann was born in Germany to her German native mother and her American soldier father. The family moved home to the states, where she grew up in a rural farm town in Michigan with her parents and two younger brothers. There, in her pre-teens, is when she began writing and developed her love for literature.
Today, Hoffmann resides in Missouri with her husband and three children, where she published her first book Blood Slaves in January 2014 When Hoffmann isn't busy putting words on the page she enjoys reading, drawing, playing pranks on her husband, and spending time with her family.