The Jaguar Sun

When his mentor is murdered, and a desirable suspect drives his latent magick toward flashpoint, Aiden Pierce is forced to confront his mysterious past.
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Author: S. Durham

The Jaguar Sun

by S. Durham

Book Two in The Wild Magick Series

Genre: Paranormal Romance

Editor: Nancy Bell

Line Editor: Penny Ehrenkranz

Cover Designer: Marion Sipe

Words  87899

Pages  300

ISBN  978-1-77127-232-2

Price:  $5.95

Back Cover:

The proverbial prosecuting junkie, Aiden Pierce’s sole purpose in life is to convict the guilty and make sure they get what they deserve. He has little interest in his supernatural abilities and past, until a persistent internal fire begins to dog his every waking moment.

When his mentor the Chief Prosecuting Attorney of Seattle is found murdered in his home, and the only person of interest, seems to escalate that unnatural fire within him, Aiden is forced to confront his mysterious past and burgeoning powers, before his career goes up in flames.

Sonja Walker has been her own woman ever since she escaped the brutality of a powerful man thirteen years ago. Running a high end and discreet professional escort service, Sonja has achieved independence from all men. That is until a past lover, and dear friend, is murdered, and she becomes the prime suspect. As her world unravels around her, the police and the prosecuting office’s scrutiny not only serve to threaten her livelihood, but the puzzling and potent attraction she has to the assistant PA, Aiden Pierce, just might undo her completely.

As they try to ignore the simmering passion between them, Aiden and Sonja find themselves drawn into a battle against an undeniable evil, ultimately leading them through the jungles of Los Angeles and Guatemala to an ancient sect that has been fighting evil since a time before the Mayans. In a race against time, Aiden must embrace his legacy before he loses the one thing that has become more important to him than his career...or his life.


A strange mix of emotions whirled through Aiden. Disbelief this could happen to a well-respected and shrewd prosecutor; anger, at the feeling of helplessness, of not having been there to somehow prevent such a crime; and a deep sadness which he’d only experienced once before, when Natasha passed away a year ago. He was good at keeping a tight rein on his emotions though, and he supposed he’d need that trait to get through the days and weeks to come. Already one of the officers informed the team that all the major television stations were camped out at the front gate. This kind of thing was a media bomb.

Aiden recalled how well John handled reporters. ‘Straight up and simple,’ he’d reminded Aiden on several occasions. Straight up, meaning only giving up what information could be allowed for public consumption. He thought of Gary Baldwin, the other senior deputy. Gary was older and had been with the prosecutor’s office seventeen years to Aiden’s six years. He trusted Gary implicitly, not only for his trial wins, but also because of his solid character. Really, all the men and women under the prosecuting attorney’s umbrella were good people. He could trust Gary to handle the media, carefully, and with aplomb.  

Aiden turned away from the room and offered a cursory nod to Mrs. Jeffries, the housekeeper. She sat on the hallway settee and dabbed at her eyes while one of the victim advocates sat close to her and tried to comfort John Fogel’s employee of twenty years. The poor woman found John at five a.m. when she arrived for work. Besides Patricia Fogel, she was the only soul to possess a key and the security alarm code for the small mansion, located outside the Seattle suburbs.  

Why and who? Those were always the questions. Suspects...opportunity and motive? As if on cue, Tom Reid came out into the hallway and motioned Aiden to walk with him down the hall.                           

“Time of death, between two and three a.m. ME says, based on temp and lividity. They found the 9 mm casing over by the bookshelf,” Tom relayed quietly. He glanced over at Aiden, his face shadowed. The man had seen too much death in the course of his work. “You know I gotta ask the goddamn question?”

Aiden offered a strained laugh. “Yeah, what kind of detective would you be if you didn’t?”

This was one time he wished he’d taken up Alicia, or Melanie’s, or any number of the office females, offers of a few drinks and some friendly sex to blow off steam. But no, he’d become a no hitter when it came to office romance. He spent most nights alone working on cases, watching video testimonies, reading police reports, going over trial preps. He’d become the proverbial prosecuting junkie. Not, as many people in his circle imagined, because he was climbing the ladder to be the next chief prosecuting attorney, but because he couldn’t do anything else. He was driven to find the guilty and put them away. If not for life, at least for what a perp deserved.

“Where were you between the time you left Fogel and three a.m.?” the detective asked with a stony expression plastered to his face.

Aiden was quite sure he’d been deep into his all too frequent and disturbing dreams, at about two a.m., but he wouldn’t mention that little detail to Reid. “I dropped John off at his home at about nine and then drove myself to my loft. I think the clock said nine-fifty. I spent the rest of the evening alone.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought you were going to say.”

If the detective wondered why Aiden wasn’t hitting it off with some woman instead of being home alone, he didn’t voice it out loud.

Patricia, John’s wife, was in New York at some kind of women’s political activist convention and wasn’t scheduled to return until later in the week. Aiden’s call to her earlier had been one of the hardest calls he’d ever made. He’d made sure someone was with her when he told her the news. As tough as the woman always came across, the silence which ensued on the other end, after he’d told her the devastating news, had been deafening. Another female’s voice had come on the line, a good friend of Patricia’s, who’d been prepared beforehand. She assured Aiden she would see to Patricia’s needs and get her home as soon as possible.

John and Patricia Fogel didn’t have any children. Aiden supposed that was a good thing in this case.

Now that Tom had gotten the little matter of his lack of alibi out of the way, Aiden rallied his thoughts. “Listen Reid, I probably don’t need to tell you to check every recent parole of any perp John put away. Also all emails, phone records, including cell phones, mail, all deliveries made to his office, his home. Need to know his dry cleaning place, his favorite take out, his...” Aiden paused when Gary Baldwin walked into the foyer.

Gary approached them and sighed heavily. “Jesus, Aiden, this is a mess. There must be at least fifty reporters clamoring at the gates.” He shook his head again. “I got hold of the attorney general, and he’s authorized anything we need to get this closed quickly.”  

He nodded to Reid. “Our office is compiling a list of every case John was personally involved in.” He looked over toward the office and blew out a breath. “How the hell could this happen?”

Tom Reid and Aiden nodded in agreement. It was unspoken. They needed to find who murdered Fogel and quickly.

Gary wandered away toward the scene of death, no doubt to in some way say his last goodbye to the man who’d mentored so many in his career.

Reid spoke up. “Aiden, you should know, I only asked the question of your whereabouts because it’s procedure.”                

Aiden nodded absently and dragged a hand through his hair.

The detective continued in a hushed tone. “The fact is, we know from Mrs. Jeffries over there, who the last person with John Fogel was last evening.”            

Aiden looked up at the detective and raised his eyebrows in question.            

“A woman, the housekeeper said, John met with some regularity when Patricia was out of town. A Ms. Sonja Walker of Trimeca Place, in Queen Anne.”            

Aiden didn’t flinch, wince, or twitch. With amazing calm, he merely looked at Reid and nodded.

About the Author:


S.Durham is a native Oregonian who currently lives in the Portland, Metropolitan Area with her husband, three children, an independent cat named Lucy, and (the newest addition)...Henry, a toy Maltese with boundless energy. Ocean beaches, mountain forests, and every other facet of the beautiful Pacific Northwest is a rich mine of inspiration that feeds Ms.Durham’s fertile imagination. She is thrilled to announce the sequel to The Lycan Moon, THE JAGUAR SUN (2nd in The Wild Magick series), is being released in December 2012 (just in time for cessation of the Mayan Calender.) Currently S. Durham is starting the 3rd installment of The Wild Magick series as well as finishing her forth novel, a departure from witches, werewolves, jaguars, angels and demons...



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