Personal Demons - Book Tour and Giveaway

​Dark, quirky, urban fantasy with a mystery plot, a dash of social commentary, and a sprinkling of slow-burn romantic potential.

Personal Demons
The Rifter Series Book 2
by L.R. Braden
Genre: Urban Fantasy, Paranormal Suspense 

Protecting her secret and hunting demons is a matter of survival for possessed-practitioner Mira Fuentes. She's spent years learning to work with the snarky demon housed in her body, and it hasn't always gone smoothly. Nor has her recent partnership with an agent of the Paranatural Task Force. Ty Williams—uncomfortably-attractive and overly-protective—may never fully accept that his partner has a literal inner demon.

But work-life-demon balance is the least of Mira's problems when a figure from her past drags her back to the hometown she's avoided for nearly a decade to investigate a string of potentially-magical disappearances. Someone or something is snatching teens from the local high school.

Emotionally off-balance in a city full of old ghosts and new dangers, Mira will have to confront her past to discover what is hunting the innocent.

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Praise for L. R. Braden:
"My new 'auto-buy' author. I love everything this woman writes."—J.D. Brown, award-winning author of the Ema Marx Series

"A fast-paced, engrossing, unexpected, and tension-filled magical work…A great read for every female lead Urban Fantasy enthusiast."—The Queen of Swords, NetGalley reviewer on Demon Riding Shotgun

"I LOVED this book. It's got fun. It's got depth. It's definitely going to stick with me."—Lydia R, NetGalley reviewer on Demon Riding Shotgun


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​Moonlight streamed in from the building’s skylights, casting long shadows from the crisscross of scaffolding onto the concrete floor. Several large bay doors that would once have allowed trains to pull in were boarded over, each sporting the tag of a local artist. Steel tracks set flush to the floor created a ladder effect across the pitted, dirt-crusted surface.
A figure crept along the far edge of the building. Long, matted, white hair draped their shoulders and obscured their face save for the profile of a beak-like nose. Pale, wiry limbs moved amid tattered strips of soiled fabric, fingers nearly scraping the floor as the hunched form slunk from shadow to shadow between patches of moonlight. One bony hand clutched something. Mira squinted, then nearly gagged as she realized the man—he had to be the rifter—was dragging an extra appendage. A dark smear snaked across the pale-gray floor in his wake.
<Looks like dinner.>
Mira scowled, but since the demon was inside her, the expression didn’t have much effect. Not that the demon tended to care about Mira’s disapproval in any case.
There but for the grace of God. . . . She sent a silent, grateful prayer for the miracle that had allowed her to strike a balance with her possessor all those years ago and saved her from becoming one of the creatures she now hunted.
The rifter shuffled from pillar to pillar, dragging its gory meal toward a break in the south wall—a section of empty window frame partially covered by a loosely propped piece of plywood. At the pace he was moving, she had maybe a minute before he reached the opening.
She glanced around the rest of the interior. Plenty of open space, good solid supports, no one nearby . . . couldn’t really ask for a better space to fight in.
<Are you going to call Ty?>
She fingered the cell phone clipped to her belt. Carrying the device—basically a tiny tracker—made her uncomfortable, but she had eventually given in to the practicality of being able to quickly communicate with Ty. Yet another concession to this whole partnership thing. The plan had been to locate the rifter, text the location, then trail it at a discrete distance until they could take it down together. It had seemed logical enough when she’d agreed to it. Now, watching her target move slowly away, she wasn’t so sure.
She worried her lower lip between her teeth, then shifted her hand to the sheathed kukri knife also attached to her belt. By the time Ty gets here, the rifter will have moved on, and the next place we catch up to it might not be so accommodating. She slid the long, curved blade free. We can handle this ourselves.
Mira felt the demon grin. <Just like the old days.>
Her lips twitched up to match. The “old days” were barely two weeks gone, hardly any time at all, but Mira couldn’t deny the thrill of acting without the need for debate or consent. The single hunt she’d worked with Ty—not including the unofficial case on which they’d met—had gone smoothly enough, but she’d chafed at his slow pace and meticulous planning. Right now there was a rifter in front of her, and she was going to kill it. Simple.
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Demon Riding Shotgun
The Rifter Series Book 1

Possessed by a demon since she was eleven years old, Mira Fuentes maintains a fragile alliance with the snarky soul who shares her body. Together they hunt down unstable Rifters-- demon-controlled humans bent on causing chaos in the mortal realm. But when a routine hunt leads to a powerful Rifter with plans for Baltimore, Mira quickly finds herself in over her head and at the top of the city's Most Wanted.

Recently retired from the PTF after losing his partner, Ty Williams now works for the Baltimore PD and keeps his distance from cases involving magic. But when a person dies of clearly magical causes and the PTF doesn't have any agents to spare, Ty is the closest thing the department has to an expert. Saddled with a new partner he doesn't want and a mountain of self-doubt, it's his job to track down a suspect who looks suspiciously like the one-night-stand he brought home from the bar last night.

Mira will have to set her trust issues aside and enlist the help of a man determined to uncover her secrets if she hopes to learn the identity of the demon's host and prevent the human race from becoming meat puppets for the denizens of the Rift.

On COURTING DARKNESS: "This book was a fantastic second installment to the Magicsmith series… Truly brilliant writing!"--Richelle Rodarte, NetGalley Reviewer

"The plot was engrossing, fascinating and action-filled."--Pam Guynn, NetGalley Reviewer on Faerie Forged

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​Mira darted across the open space between the buildings and crouched under a glassless window opening. Voices drifted out.
“. . . area is claimed. You’re drawing too much attention.”
“There’s plenty to go around.”
They’re . . . talking?
Mira rolled her eyes. Or rather, the demon riding shotgun in her soul did.
<We can speak, you know. Well . . . most of us.>
Since when do rifters stop to chat with their victims? Besides, it seems like that old guy is leading the conversation. Mira peeked over the lip of the wooden frame. The construction worker had his arms crossed over his Day-Glo vest. His face was twisted into an unhappy scowl that created deep creases in the skin around his eyes, but his flesh seemed intact—no signs of puppet strain, as Mira called the marks usually created by demon possession. Could he be a rifter, too?
<If he is, he’s hiding deep.>
Or balanced.
<Don’t get your hopes up. What we have is not normal.>
But not impossible. She bit her lip. If there’s another pairing like ours . . .
“This is your only warning.” The construction worker uncrossed his arms and widened his stance, planting his feet. “We won’t let you upset our plans. Find somewhere else to gorge and die.”
This guy definitely knows what he’s facing. And did he say “we”?
The rifter sneered, his upper lip rising just enough to reveal grayish teeth and black gums. “Make me.”
The rifter Mira had come to kill launched forward, striking the construction worker in the chest. The second man took the impact, leaning forward slightly to keep his feet as they slid a few inches across sawdust-covered plywood.
<Definitely not human.>
Whatever he is, I want to talk to him. Mira vaulted the window frame, calling her magic. She landed in a crouch, one knee touching down in sawdust. Both men turned to look at her. Energy swirled through her, pulled from the air and focused, with the help of her hitchhiker, into a glowing ball on her palm. Tendrils of blue static cracked around a white center. The presence that was always with her but not quite a part of her swelled.
Picturing the result she wanted, Mira flicked her wrist and exerted her will. An arc of pale lightning connected her to the rifter she’d tracked, resting for a moment against his chest before he was blown off his feet. Two-by-fours splintered as he made a new opening in the skeletal frame of an interior wall.
Mira didn’t rise from her crouch but pivoted to face the second man. Maybe another rifter. Maybe a practitioner. Maybe someone like her. . . . “Who are you?”
The man’s gaze shifted between Mira and the broken wall. He pursed his lips. Then he stepped through the doorway behind him that led deeper into the building.
The downed rifter sat up amid snapped beams and a cloud of dust.
She’d come to end him—she needed to end him—but what she’d overheard from the mysterious construction worker had raised more than a few questions, and Mira wanted answers.
Racing past the stunned rifter, she darted after the second man.

L.R. Braden is the bestselling author of the Magicsmith and Rifter urban fantasy series, as well as several works of short fiction. Her writing has won the Eric Hoffer Book Award for Sci-fi/Fantasy, the First Horizon Award for debut authors, the Imadjinn Award for Best Urban Fantasy, and the Colorado Authors League Award for writing excellence in multiple categories. She was also honored as a finalist for the 2023 Colorado Book Award in Sci-fi/Fantasy and for Rocky Mountain Fiction Writers’ Writer of the Year award in 2021 and 2023.

While she loves to travel, she’s always happy to come home to Colorado, where she lives in the foothills of the Rocky Mountains with her wonderful husband, precocious daughter, and two quirky cats. When not writing, she spends her time playing games, enjoying the great outdoors, and weaving metal into intricate chain mail jewelry that she sells in her Etsy shop, WimsiDesign.


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What is your writing process like?
Bursts of speed alternated with crippling lethargy. Seriously, some days words flow like water. Others I can’t remember that a spoon is called a spoon. Despite the ebb and flow of these mercurial tides, I sit down at my computer every day, usually first thing in the morning before the demands of life have had a chance to worm their way through my groggy brain, and try to get one to two thousand words written down. Sometimes that takes an hour. Sometimes it takes all day. Sometimes I realize the scenes I wrote yesterday had gaping holes big enough to shove a planet through and my word count moves backwards as I patch things up. But that, too, is progress.

How do you come up with ideas for stories and characters?
You know that state when you’re about to fall asleep or you just woke up and you can’t quite tell what’s real and what’s only in your imagination? It’s called hypnagogia or hypnopompia, depending on which direction you’re going. That’s where stories live. Only I don’t have to be in bed to find them. I live half my life in daydreams. Walking, working, even while I’m talking to you, probably. Part of my brain seems always to be half asleep, and that’s the part that’s most alive.

What do the words “writer’s block” mean to you?
For me, “writer’s block” is synonymous with “depressive slump.” I’ve never experienced a time when I didn’t have stories to tell, when I simply didn’t know what should happen next in a book or have a dozen new ideas clamoring for attention. I do, however, have days when the mere act of getting out of bed takes more energy than I can muster. On those days, even when I do manage to drag myself to the computer, I stare at the screen like a neanderthal with no idea what the darned thing is for, and worse, no desire to bother making it work.

How do you process and deal with negative book reviews?
First I give myself a moment to deal with the sting to my ego and self-confidence. Then I remind myself that everyone is entitled to their own opinion and there’s never been a single thing in history that EVERYONE could agree was good. Lastly, I check to see if there’s any actionable feedback that I want to consider moving forward. Then I move on.

What is the most challenging part of your writing process?
The hardest part of writing for me is trying to be patient while I get out all the necessary in-between bits of a story that is clamoring to get out. In my head, I’ve got a series of awesome scenes that I can’t wait to write. (Think of the key frames used in the process of animation.) But there’s a bunch of other stuff that has to happen between those key frames to turn them into an actual, readable book. There has to be time, and weather, and clothing, and funny haircuts, and accents, and a million other details that ground the reader in the story. I don’t need those, because they’re all instantaneously included in my head when I picture a scene. Unfortunately, the audience can’t see inside my head, so I have to describe all those things for the scene to make sense. It can be very frustrating having to delay the part I’m eager to write to fill in all those other bits.
Why don’t I just write all the fun key frames first and deal with the other bits at the end, you ask? Imagine a plate of food. Half the food is your favorite dish, the other half is something you hate. If you eat what you don’t like first, you may give up before you get through the meal. If you eat your favorite thing first, you may decide not to bother with the other bit. But if you alternate the bites, you can get through everything without it being too bit a deal. I want to finish my books. Simple as that. Delaying the fun scenes gives me something to look forward to on days when I’m faced with a plate full of raw squid.

How long have you been writing, or when did you start?
I wrote a few stories (or pieces of stories) in high school just for fun, not ever thinking that “writer” was a possible career path. When I went to college I spent a lot of time on other creative outlets, mostly sculpture and metalsmithing. I got a BA is studio arts, but because I’d also taken just about every class that promised I could read books for credit, I also earned a BA in English literature. Oddly enough, despite the English degree, I never once took a writing class. It wasn’t until I was in my twenties that the idea of actually writing a book occurred to me. I’d read thousands of books at that point. I knew what I enjoyed, and I had an idea that I thought would make a good story. So I thought, why not? It took me three months to write that first book, and five years to get it published. A Drop of Magic came out in 2019.

What advice would you give writers working on their first book?
Take your time. Be kind to yourself. Don’t give up.

How many books have you written, and which is your favorite?
Right now I have eight books published. Six of those are in my Magicsmith urban fantasy series. Demon Riding Shotgun was the start of a new, spin-off series set in the same world, and Personal Demons is a sequel to that. I also have short stories in a couple of anthologies. Choosing a favorite book is like choosing a favorite child. Each one is unique, with its own triumphs and failures, and thinking about any one of them gives me a warm, fuzzy feeling that brings a smile to my heart.

How do you develop your plot and characters?
Because I write mostly in series, some of my characters and plot lines are dictated by what came before. Having said that, every book is different and I love the creation process before I start actually writing, when I get to look at all the infinite paths a story can take and come up with the plot hooks and characters that will bring that story to life. I plot my stories in advance, at least loosely. I find this helps keep me motivated and on track. That doesn’t mean there are no surprises. I’m always finding new alternatives and connections as I write, so the plot grows organically. It’s like cultivating a bonsai tree. You can coax the plant in a desired direction with a bit of judicious pruning, but in the end, the branches will grow where they want to grow. The same thing happens with my characters. I start with an idea of who I want in my story. They might start as a personality, or an ability, or a trauma. I flesh them out with a character bio to get to know them better, but it isn’t until I’m writing that they truly reveal themselves. And sometimes they weren’t who I thought at all!

What inspired the idea for your book?
When I created the spin-off character of Mira and gave her a story of her own in Demon Riding Shotgun, people really took to her, and she and her demon were just so much fun to write that I wanted to do more. That first book had been a good introduction to where Mira is in her current life. With this next book, I wanted to show readers how she got there, where she came from. Of course I didn’t just want to have a backstory info dump. I had to make it fun, exciting, and new. I had to show not only where Mira came from, but where she was going. That meant giving her a reason to face her past that would also allow her to grow as a character. That’s what Personal Demons is.

What was your hardest scene to write, and why?
The scene where Mira is ambushed by her overbearing family when she returns to her abuela’s house was difficult for me to write, mostly because of the number of people I had to juggle in the scene. I wanted the reader to get a sense of how Mira was overwhelmed by all the people wanting to talk to her, ask her questions, give advice, judge her, etc. But I didn’t want the readers themselves to become overwhelmed, because that wouldn’t be much fun. I had to be careful not to bombard the reader with names and descriptions while still giving the impression of a room full of people. I also had to be very careful with my dialog tags to avoid confusion as people talked over and interrupted each other. And that was further complicated by the fact that Mira often has secondary, overlapping conversations with the demon in her head while she’s speaking out loud to the people around her. Scenes with a smaller cast are definitely easier, but sometimes you just need a lot of characters to get a point across.

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