Our scariest book or scariest scene...Weeeeeeeell, I'm not a horror writer so I reckon I have to go with the scariest thing to me, which is reclaiming your sense of self and your soul's strength after enduring an emotionally abusive relationship. To that end, I'd have to say the first book in my Immortal Spy urban fantasy series, The Burned Spy is probably the scariest...emotionally.
In the clip below, we have a classic moment of power disparity being abused between Jörmungand (yep, the Norse World Serpent in humanoid form) and Bix the Gatekeeper. She's broken free of his thrall, but not the god himself. They're in a nightclub. She has no idea he's there until...
From THE BURNED SPY, Immortal Spy Book 1
Bix headed for the railing overlooking the raucous floor show.
“You reek of Greek,” hissed a too familiar and unwelcome voice.
Her stomach lodged in her throat. “Go away, Jör.”
“You’re under contract with my pantheon.” He trailed a finger up and down her arm. “I want to know why there’s an archangel in our embassy.”
“First, my contract is with your sister. You’re just a witness.” She slanted away from him and drew her shoulder up to her ear. “Second, it’s a condo, not an embassy. Third, fuck off.”
He spread his arms to either side of her, pinning her against the railing. “Hel wants an update on your progress.”
The darkness rippled along her spine. This time, she didn’t fight it as it tore out the back of her dress.
Jör’s eyes widened. He tipped her over the railing until her feet no longer touched the ground, one hand heavy on her nape, the other firm on her hip. She bucked against his grip, but he held her fast.
Fear, thick and heavy weighed her down as every eye in the bar fixed on her. Shame stilled her thrashing and burned her cheeks.
The darkness retracted.
“Finally,” Jör whispered.
Light sizzled and burst.
Jör skidded across the floor in a trail of smoke. A friendly hand grabbed Bix’s feet and pulled her back to the surety of solid ground. Her date wrapped his arm firmly around her waist and hauled her up against his side. An orb of raw electricity crackled in his palm.
She tried to stop quaking. Couldn’t.
Jör regained his feet and smirked. His tongue lashed out and extinguished the smoldering of his chest pocket. He causally doffed his nonexistent hat to Ashtad, even as his gaze shifted to her. His lips moved. She didn’t need to hear his voice to know his words.
“Tick, tock.”