Bootleggers, drug dealers, crooked cops, and dirty
politicians... Chicago has always had a reputation for indulging in the finer
vices of life. That’s why Doctor Charm’s favorite daughter found America’s
Second City so appealing, criminals are never boring. As second in command for
the powerful Subrosa Security group, Delilah Samson finds opportunities to use
her superpowers at every turn. Whether it’s stealing a priceless French
painting from a mobster or stopping a drug deal, she’s game.
In fact, the only thing she doesn’t care for is Chicago’s
favorite native son, Deputy Mayor Alan Adale, the man who made Lucifer jealous.
Sinfully handsome, or possibly just sinful, Adale has been pursuing Delilah
since she first arrived, and she’s been dodging.
When she finds ties between the new kingpin in town and a
drug The Company wants to buy so they can create more superheroes, Delilah
takes the gloves off. Teaming up with the spooky Spirit of Chicago, she aims to
take down the dealers, the mobsters, the kingpin, and The Company. All without
falling in love with the one man capable of capturing her heart.
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Excerpt EVEN VILLAINS HAVE INTERNS
Snow crunched under Delilah's
boot as she stepped out of the cab on East Jackson Drive. "Park down by
the university," she told Freddie as a voice on the police radio confirmed
an ambulance was en route to collect the final remains of Mayor Arámbula.
Buckingham fountain was
beautiful, even late on a winter night. Past the skeletal trees, golden lights
illuminated the sparkling water—the strobe of blue and red from the waiting
squad cars rather ruined the romantic affect.
The cab pulled away. Delilah
walked through the fresh-fallen snow, drifting across the icy sidewalk with the
calm demeanor of someone exactly where they belonged.
At the edge of the square, one
of the officers noticed her. "Ma'am, can I help you?" he said
stiffly, shining a flashlight at her face.
"No."
He squinted, trying to make out
her face under the black top hat she wore. "Did you hear anything? See
anything?"
"I didn't." She
watched as the ambulance pulled up and paramedics hurried to the body. They
lifted the dead mayor onto a stretcher and a scrap of paper fell out of his
pocket. The wind caught it, lifting the paper up out of the snow and blowing it
toward her.
"Hey!" one of the
officers shouted. "Somebody grab that! Gelphi! Catch that!"
Delilah snatched the paper out
of the air with a gloved hand. "Here," she held it out to the
policeman she assumed was Officer Gelphi. Three barely legible words scrawled
across the paper: Kalydon - 77 Wacker.
"Thank you." Gelphi
took the paper back with obvious hesitation. "Ma'am, I'm going to ask you
to move along. This is a crime scene."
"Of course." News vans
were already parking on Lakeshore Drive and she didn't need to be on camera.
"Have a good evening." Pivoting on her heel, Delilah strolled back
along the snowy streets until her nose was numb. Seventy-seven Wacker was an
office building that had been on the market for several months. It wasn't
somewhere the mayor would have gone for a party, but a black market business
deal? That sounded plausible.
A warm breeze alerted her to
company. "Fancy meeting you here," The Spirit of Chicago said.
Delilah stopped, watching him
from the corner of her eye. "How did you hear about this?"
"I have friends at the
police department. You?"
She shrugged. "I know all
the good gossips." She turned to face him, or as much as there was of him.
The festively lit streets twinkled through his gossamer body. "Where were
you tonight, superhero?"
"Where were you, do-gooder
super villain?"
With a grimace, she shrugged
again. "Busy. I have an airtight alibi. Over a hundred people saw me
flirting with a handsome man tonight. We didn't get as far as drinks.
Disappointing, overall. Your turn."
"I was trying to attract
the attention of devastatingly beautiful woman."
Delilah almost laughed.
"Oh? How'd that work out for you?"
"She looked right through
me."
They turned side by side to
watch the paramedics cover the late mayor's body. A chill that had nothing to
do with the temperature and everything to do with the muted pallor of death
wound its way up her spine, leaving her feeling isolated and angry.
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