My Book is FREE on Amazon :)

You can pick up a copy of my newest book, Emissary of the Devil: Testimony of the Damned, for FREE today! Today is the last day to snatch it up. It will never be free again on Amazon!



You can also read a sample of Testimony by clicking the US link!

Happy Reading!

The Blurb:

Centuries ago, Brax committed unforgivable sins, killing his lover and himself, and to escape eternal damnation, he made a bargain with the Devil. Now a demon, he roams the earth, corrupting and collecting souls for Hell’s infernal legions in anticipation of the coming apocalypse. And he is very, very good at what he does.

When he is given the special assignment of corrupting Maggie Westbrook, a seemingly timid high school senior who also happens to be one of the Nephilim. Brax believes his goal of commanding his own legion in Hell’s army is finally within his reach. Maggie isn’t just any Nephilim; she’s the lamb who will break the seals that will usher in Armageddon, and her corruption will tip the scales of that final battle towards Hell.

But he quickly finds that the job will be more difficult than he first anticipated. For one thing, he has competition in the form of the demon Corbin Black, whose powers of corruption rival his own. And Maggie is not unguarded, as the Nephilim and host of Heaven will do everything they can to stop him. Most disconcerting, though, is Maggie herself. From the moment Brax first sees her, he is drawn to her purity and innocence, and as he comes to know her, long-forgotten emotions begin to rise within him, emotions he hasn’t felt for centuries…

While Testimony is an epic story of good and evil battling for control of an innocent soul, with the fate of the world hanging in the balance, it’s also the more personal story of a deeply flawed man trying as hard as he can to overcome the devastating sins of his past and find true love and redemption.

This book contains mature themes, violence, drug use, drinking, and sexual situations. Reader discretion is advised.

Emissary Cover


An Update! Books, Contests, Cover Reveal, Thing-a-ma-bobs–All the Going-ons and Happenings in my World!

It’s been a spell–again. Sorry about that. I seriously get sidetracked.

I’ll be brief! I’m up for best fantasy author for the Reality Bites Book Awards. Here’s the link to vote for me, K.G. Reuss

My book, Emissary of the Devil, is up for best Paranormal Romance. Here’s the link to vote for it:

In other news, I’m about 61,000 words into For Ever! I’ve also finished the first draft of Gunny Perkins: Nerd! Woo! I should be finishing the first draft for For Ever by tomorrow night (situations permitting, of course!).

Emissary of the Devil: Gospel of the Divine is on hold while I finish up For Ever. I have been writing scenes here and there and have roughly 1/4 of the book written.

I started a newsletter! It goes out once a month. I promise I won’t spam you. Seriously, I forget to post here. Trust me when I say you have nothing to fear in subscribing to my newsletter! Here’s the link:

Emissary of the Devil: Testimony of the Damned is available on Amazon/Kindle Unlimited!

The Chronicles of Winterset: Oracle is also available on Amazon for 99 cents. Yay, right?

I have a street team if you find yourself interested in joining up! By being in my group, you get to read excerpts from my upcoming books and get various little tidbits before anyone else! Join me!

Oh, since I’m here. . .

Here’s the cover reveal for Among the Dead: For Ever. It has a tentative release date of Friday, October 13th, 2017!

EVER FINAL COVERThat’s the news! Thanks for reading!

The Secret Life of Death: An Unedited Excerpt!

This is an unedited excerpt from my newest book, The Secret Life of Death: The Reaper. I’m aware of how much editing it needs. That was part of what I was doing with it today. I was trying to read the book again to see what has to be done. That being said, I’ve done absolutely nothing to edit it because, well, I got tied up reading it. I made some notes on things that need to be addressed. I was more concerned with the story flowing than the editing errors.

Anyway, I thought I’d share it!




Katie Foster.

Her name was still on my lips as I looked below to the trodden down city of Detroit from my perch atop One Detroit Center. She had been everything to me: My best friend, my love, my life. I thought everything about her had been wonderful, right down to the way she would sometimes let out a little hum while she slept.

I pushed her beautiful blonde hair and smile from my mind and took an unneeded deep breath as my target came into view. My inhuman eyesight zeroed in on a smartly dressed balding man with a slightly soft midsection, and the brunette on his arm, both laughing like lovers often do. I shook my head in disgust at them and stepped off the ledge and let gravity pull me towards them, the speed of the fall pulling the unnecessary air from my lungs, the wind whipping through my shaggy black hair.

I landed behind them soundlessly and rose from my bended knee and glided into the backseat of the man’s Mercedes without a soul noticing me. I watched as the brunette, his young and very attractive secretary, placed her hand suggestively on his thigh. A nerve near his eye twitched and he licked his lips in anticipation as he pushed the pedal down hard and the expensive luxury sedan lurched forward in excitement.

The man drove well out of the city and I leaned back in my seat and listened as his secretary giggled and continued rubbing his thigh, her hands roaming dangerously close to the point of no return. I rolled my eyes as she leaned in and began planting gentle kisses on his neck. A bead of sweat appeared on his shiny head and his breathing picked up as his eyes flicked hungrily to her taking in the shape of her breasts and full lips.

I shook my head and looked away as I waited for the perfect opportunity to carry out my work. I allowed my mind to drift back to Katie, and I closed my eyes as I breathed in deeply remembering her sweet scent. Remembering her lies, her eyes when I caught her with him, the way they flashed not in regret at being with him, but in regret at being caught. I remembered the flash of headlights, my hand bearing down hard on the throttle of my motorcycle as I pushed it harder, eager to meet Death. I remembered the pain, all of it, right down to the last breath that I didn’t bother to struggle taking.

The car suddenly lurched to a stop causing me to snap my attention back to the occupants. We had pulled down a forgotten side road lined with trees that were bathed in their brilliant fall colors and the man eagerly leaned over and began kissing his secretary, his hands pushing her already too short black skirt up higher on her creamy thighs. I clenched my fists furiously as I noticed a flyer in the backseat at my feet for a dance recital for his young daughter. Sacrificing the trust of the ones who loved him for a quick, easy piece of ass.

Just like Katie.

I plunged my hand through the back of his seat without a moment of hesitation and curled my fist around his beating heart. I felt it stutter within my hand and I watched as the look of shock crossed his eyes as he clutched at his heart attack. His secretary screamed and grasped at him, her voice shrill from her cries. I squeezed tighter and he wheezed out closing his eyes one final time.

I pulled my hand from his chest and tried to ignore the high-pitched screams coming from his secretary as she clawed at him in fright. I chuckled when his dead body fell forward and pinned her to her leather seat, her red lipstick smeared across her face, her eyes frantic and terrified. I looked over and rolled my eyes as the man suddenly appeared beside me in the backseat, his brow furrowed in confusion as he stared mutely at his dead body.

“Come on. I don’t have all day to sit here and listen to her scream,” I grumbled, flicking my thumb in her direction.

“Am I dead?” the man asked, staring dumbly at his slumped over body in the front seat.

“What do you think?” I muttered.

“I can’t be dead! I have my daughter’s recital, and it’s my wife’s and my anniversary next week-,”

“Oh please!” I spat at him. I slid through the car door and the man immediately appeared at my side and dropped to his knees begging me to listen to him.

“Please! I can’t be dead!” he pleaded, his eyes misting over in tears.

“Like any of it matters,” I kicked him away from me. “You were cheating on your wife with your secretary. I doubt you gave a shit about your anniversary or your daughter’s recital.”

“I made a mistake! I can change! I promise! Just give me another chance! Please, God!” he begged breathlessly, grabbing frantically at my legs.

“I don’t give second chances. You had it all and you blew it. There’s nothing I can do about it so get off your knees and stop praying at me. I’m not your God, and even if I were, I’d still not give you another chance based on the things I just witnessed.” I snarled disgustedly at his quivering, begging form.

“My wife. She-she’s going to find out about Becky. Please! I don’t want to be remembered like that! I made a horrible mistake!”

“Sorry. Can’t help you,” I turned away from him as he pounded his fists into the cold ground and wept. I pulled a small black device called a scythe from my pocket and hit a button on the side.

“Jobs done. Come get him. He’s driving me nuts,” I growled into the small mic.

I was greeted with a deep chuckle, and I rolled my eyes. Figured that Louie would be hauling today.

“What’s wrong, Asher? Bad day?” Louie’s voice came from the Other Side.

“Just get here,” I sighed as I heard Louie laugh again and click his box off.

He was on the way which meant I’d be free of the balding man-child in front of me soon.


“What will happen to me?” the man at my feet asked in defeat, his gray eyes flicking up to me in fear, the question reminding me of a time not long ago.

“I’m only a Reaper. I don’t deal with tossing people into the lake or letting them through the gates,” I answered dryly, looking down at his tear streaked face.

“You’re Death,” he whispered as a statement, not a question. I nodded once and looked past him as Louie appeared through a swirling vortex of color.

“Hey man, how’s it going?” Louie asked nonchalantly, looking from me to the man at my feet. It wasn’t unusual to have a soul kneeling in front of me begging me for more time.

“It’s going,” I drawled, bored. I looked over as I heard sirens approaching. Becky must have called for help.

“You lead such an exciting afterlife, Asher. What do you think?” Louie asked looking down at the shaking man again.

“He won’t give me another chance,” the man whispered sadly, his hands trembling. I shook my head in disbelief at Louie who chuckled again, his white blonde hair falling across his angelic face.

“What makes you think you deserve one?” Louie inquired, looking over to where Becky now stood, her long brown hair spilling messily over her shoulders, her eyes red from crying. The paramedics had removed the man’s body from the car and were attempting CPR on him.

“I have a family,” the man said sadly through a choked sob.

“A family you seemed to have forgotten about as you stuck your tongue down young Becky’s throat,” I pointed out. The man opened and closed his mouth several times before answering.

“Haven’t you ever made a mistake?” the man wept, his voice wavering.

“Yeah, Asher! Haven’t you ever made a mistake?” Louie echoed innocently, his blue eyes dancing with mirth.

“Take him and get the hell out of here,” I grumbled, knowing exactly what Louie was getting at. Louie grinned at me and lifted the man to his feet in one fluid motion.

“Come on. We better go. No sense in pissing Death off even more. Hate to see him go on a killing spree,” Louie joked, his eyes shining with mischief. He really enjoyed irritating me. He reached over and gave my arm a soft punch.

“Call me if you need me,” he grinned, and with a motion of his hand, the vortex grew larger and began to dance with the brilliant light from Beyond. He pushed the man through and gave me a cheery wave as he disappeared to the Other Side.

I turned as they faded away and stared as the paramedics put the man’s body in a bag and began loading him into the ambulance. A golden leaf fell to my feet, and I shook my head sadly.

“Quia ego consumam cunctas incipit,”I whispered turning my back on the ambulance as the paramedics closed the door.

Life isn’t hard. Being Death, now that’s hard.


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Want to purchase a book? Check out Amazon for Emissary of the Devil: Testimony of the Damned and The Chronicles of Winterset: Oracle! Both are available now!


I Need Your Help!

I need support getting my Thunderclap going! All you have to do is click the link, give your support (it’s not money), and I’ll be forever grateful!

I’m working on getting Brax’s story out there. It’s so hard! I barely have the time to wash my hair let alone market and promote my books. Every little bit of help I can get takes me miles from where I’m currently sitting!

The link is posted below 🙂 Thanks!

This Might Be Heartbreak. . . or Writer’s Block.

I’ve been working on For Ever, the newest book in my lineup. I haven’t come up with a series name. I’m working on it. Mostly. I seem to be having an issue coming up with the words describing how I currently feel. Now, one may think this is a non-issue. Like, why does it matter how she feels? Just write the damn book, lady!


Well, it matters because I tend to write based on my feelings. My experiences. The relationship between the two. Lately, there has been an angry black cloud of death around me. It seems to circle me, drowning me, dragging my spirit down (no pun intended). In my line of work, tragedy isn’t unheard of. It’s the devil in the detail, really. The dying have started to stack up, their names, their faces, haunting me. For Ever is a story I started writing based on my experiences with death. Dying. The dead.

I grew up seeing things others couldn’t. Even now as an adult, I still see the shadows move, the flashes of light, feel the air change when they’re nearby. I wanted to write a story that sort of showcased that. I wanted the reader, the audience, to feel what I feel, to experience what I experience. I cannot provide the terror, the increased heart rate, the sweat, or the tears I’ve experienced. I want to. The words are stuck. I see them in my head, but there seems to be a disconnect between my brain and my hands. I can’t help but wonder if it’s my heart that blocks the path.

In the past month, I’ve lost both family and friends to the inevitable outcome of life. It doesn’t matter if they’re people I know. That’s not the point. The point is, it’s out there. It’s lurking behind a smile, an innocent drive to the store, a visit to a doctor, a night of peaceful sleep.

I’m talking about death. In moderation, I can handle it. Lately, ugh. Too much, too fast! To hold the hand of the dying, to promise them happiness despite pain and anguish, is a difficult task. To look into their eyes and know–know–I can’t help them despite the agonizing pull in my chest to make everything “OK” can completely wreck a good day. On a bad day, it’s the tragedy that makes me curl into a ball and wish I had a choice in being born. Maybe I did. I don’t know since I can’t remember anything before the age of five. The idea that we are all faced with an end is unsettling. I’m trying to channel that fear, that sadness, into For Ever. I’m failing miserably. I can’t get the faces out of my head. I can’t get the sounds of their voices out of my head. I can’t get the laughter, the cries, the whispers, the pleading out of my head. And trust me. When they’re able to plead for more time, they do. They always do.

Because in reality, no one wants to die. We will claw our way out of unconsciousness if it means one more sweet minute of an agonizing life–one that is riddled with disease, with depression, with despair–one where we can rake in just one more shaky, painful breath.

And it’s heartbreaking.

And it’s the knot in my head, the one that stops the flow of thoughts. I’ve been able to write a few scenes in For Ever that are based on my own experiences with the dead, with death and dying, and with the fear and despair that come with it. However, I don’t feel like I’m doing it justice.

For that reason, I’m putting For Ever away for a few days. I’m going to be concentrating on working on Oddworld, a series about a dragon-shifter prince. It’s not coming to me as easily either, but it’s working a lot better than For Ever.

green eyes

I hate trying to write during writer’s block. It’s the worst. The desire is there, but the words are stuck on some weird neuron-synapse-backwater road in my head.

My seven-year-old son said something interesting to me the other day. He said, “Mom, what if being alive is just a dream and when you die, you’re actually waking up? And that’s where you’re really living.” He’s insightful for someone so young. He has a point though. Maybe he’s right. We won’t ever know until the moment of darkness, of silence, of goodbye, comes.

Maybe then we wake up and really live.

Until then, I’ll be over here fighting a battle with my brain as I try to bleed thoughts into MS Word.

Want to read what I’ve released? Check out Emissary of the Devil, the story of a demon working his way through the ranks of Hell until he meets a part-angel that’s heaven-bent on saving his tarnished soul. It’s available on Amazon right now.

Check out The Chronicles of Winterset: Oracle, the story of a seventeen-year-old girl who is suddenly able to create and handle fire with her bare hands. She thinks she’s going crazy until she meets Calix Night, a guy who just might have all the answers. Oracle is available on Amazon now!

Another Excerpt?

This is an UNEDITED excerpt from my upcoming book, For Ever. You can find more information on all (well, almost all!) my books and me here:

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For Ever by K.G. Reuss

I was born different.

I always knew there was something not necessarily normal about me. How many children can peer into the shadows and watch as they swirled and formed creatures that could prowl through a dimly-lit bedroom at three in the morning? How many children can say they’ve had a conversation with someone that no one else can see—someone that is as real as the air they breathe—someone with whom Death has touched and then forgotten about? How many children can say that the monsters in their closets and under their beds aren’t a figment of their imaginations, that the shaking of their bed in the middle of the night is more than just an old house settling, that it’s actually something from the Other Side?

And the voices. They were everywhere, like hands reaching out to pull at me, to claw at my crumbling psyche. They whispered, they pleaded, they screamed for me to notice them. And I did. God help me, I did. It wasn’t until I was twelve that I was able to force them away. I learned to block them out until they were a distant echo before finally giving way to silence. Sweet silence. And blindness. I got so good at blocking things out that even the shadows and people I could see that no one else could, disappeared, melding once again into simple darkness, the footsteps, growls, and rasping breaths fading away. More silence.

I thought the silence was beautiful. Comforting. Normal.

It was years before everything that I had worked so hard to put behind me suddenly hit me, smothered me, became me.

            And it all started with a kiss before it ended with me dying on the black pavement—pavement that was still wet from the storm that had passed through only an hour before, but now even wetter because of the blood that pooled around my dying body, Rosewood Cemetery a blurry outline in the distance.

And him. The shadow I’d always seen flitting through my room in the dead of night, his lava-red eyes staring down at me, warning me of things to come. Of things I didn’t ask for, things I didn’t want. Things that were simply meant to be because I was different. Because I was not normal. Because he was not normal.

And because there are things some of us are just meant to face, with or without the silence, with or without the fight, the breath, the life. Some of us are destined to die young, to join the ranks of those we feared, to accept what is and what can never be.


I can never be it because I never was it. I am simply different. I am Special.

I am the silence, soft and sweet. But I’m also the storm.  The creature in the shadows. The voice in the dark.

The one they fear.

If you don’t know me, be grateful, for I am not there for you. If you do know me, I’m sorry.


For all the things I feared, I have become, and I shall do my duty justly.