The Darkest Secret by Gena ShowalterThe Darkest Secret by Gena Showalter

The Darkest Secret

byGena Showalter

Mass Market Paperback | March 29, 2011

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Keeper of the demon of Secrets, Amun can manipulate the darkest thoughts of anyone nearby. But when the immortal warrior is chained and isolated to protect those he loves, death is his only hope of release—until he meets Haidee, a fellow prisoner whose beauty and hidden vulnerability draw him into a reckless test of his loyalty.

Haidee is a demon-assassin, raised to despise Amun's kind. Yet how can she hate the man whose touch sets her aflame? But to save him, she must give herself body and souland face the wrath of a powerful adversary sworn to destroy her.
Gena Showalter writes in the genres of contemporary romance, paranormal romance, and young adult fiction. She is the author of the Alien Huntress series, Tales of an Extraordinary Girl series, Atlantis series, and Lords of the Underworld series. Her other books include The Stone Prince, The Pleasure Slave, and Catch a Mate. Her books h...
Title:The Darkest SecretFormat:Mass Market PaperbackDimensions:416 pages, 6.62 × 4.21 × 1.08 inPublished:March 29, 2011Publisher:HQN BooksLanguage:English

The following ISBNs are associated with this title:

ISBN - 10:0373775490

ISBN - 13:9780373775491


Rated 3 out of 5 by from Secrets To Enjoy Amun - a man possessed with the demon of secrets, he knows everything, and if he doesn't know, he has ways to finding out. There is a strong silent quality to this story that is a little different then previous books in the series. The characters are interesting, and the relationship grow and changes throughout the reading experience. He's a hard demon not to like, and though you may have grown to "hate" the female lead, I assure you this book will change your feelings about her.
Date published: 2012-01-11
Rated 4 out of 5 by from Another great Lord! I loved this book about Amun - Secrets. Amun's character was quiet, strong and of course incredibly sexy. I thought Amun's story had more conversation and maybe love moments between the two characters than past books. There was less fighting and war in this story. I loved the lead up for Strider's book ... it's gonna be good!
Date published: 2011-04-18
Rated 4 out of 5 by from Still Loving this Series! The Darkest Secret is book seven in Gena Showalter’s Lords of the Underworld series. This series revolves around a group of immortal warriors who have been punished for opening Pandora’s Box by having to each house a demon inside him or herself. We’re talking big, sexy, yummy immortal warriors. Warriors that have learned to (somewhat) control their demons and are now really awesome ‘people’ who are fiercely loyal to one another and those they love. Seriously, not much to not love about these guys and these books. They are Paranormal Romance at its finest. The Darkest Secret is Amun’s story, the Keeper of Secrets. Amun is not one to speak because when he tries, every secret his demon has ever fished out of someone’s head comes rushing out. He’d rather stay silent than risk hurting the feelings of those around him. He can also hear people’s thoughts, something he’s had to get used to over the years. He’s the Lord who is the most ‘stable’, doing anything and everything he can to help out his friends. He’s also the character we’ve known the least about from previous books because he’s so quiet, calm and seemingly ‘together’. But he’s found himself someone who can hear his thoughts! Someone he can communicate with! How can she hear him? Who knows really, but she can and that’s what’s important. Amun has found himself a woman he feels passionate about and who is helping him deal with the demon minions who entered him when he went to Hell in the last book. Yeah…these Lords are always up to something. Going to the U.S. to hunt some Hunters, going to Hell to help save a minion who has befriended one of them. You know, the usual kind of stuff we all do every day. (Not really) The only little glitch with the perfect woman Amun has finally found…she’s a Hunter. Annnnd she’s the one responsible for killing one of the Lords centuries ago. Well damn. Haidee has spent her whole life hating the Lords and the Demons who possess them. After all, they are responsible for the death of her family so it’s only natural that she do whatever she can to get her revenge. I liked how Haidee wasn’t written as automatically being cool with everything that was going on. I liked that she had a bit of fire in her. And I really liked where her character ends up. Amun and Haidee together…wonderful. Then again, Gena is excellent when it comes to her couplings. Her heroes and heroines are always unique and fun to watch. Witnessing their relationships bloom is sweet and the pairing in this book is no exception. Of course, you get your initial “Mine” moments – I always like those. Then you get to the real nitty gritty of the characters and you find out why they are so well matched. Now, the lovin’ in this series is always steaming. Really, there are some h-o-t scenes. But I don’t think I’ve even blushed the way I did when I read Amun and Haidee’s initial um…exploration. Authors always describe ‘things’. That’s a given. But I don’t think I’ve ever come across an author actually use a single word to describe what was going on. Honestly, I’m blushing just writing this and I’m not sure how else to put it. So I’m going to quote the book. You can use your imagination to fill in the blanks. And yes, what you think is most likely what is happening. Liiick That’s it. I read that and I didn’t know whether to hide my eyes or *squee*. Seriously, that one word made that scene one of the ones I will remember for a long while. I mean really. *blush* We saw a lot of Strider in this book, which makes sense because his book is next. We also saw him with his future HEA. There are a few characters in this series that guarantee to put a smile on my face and make me giggle out loud the second they appear on the page. William for one, Anya is the other. And then there is Strider. I LOVE him! Love Love Love him. I really can’t wait for his book and I am very pleased with who his HEA will be. They are, once again yay Gena, a wonderful match! Gena continues to amaze me with this series. The books all follow the same overall story arc, but each book is so different one from the other. The characters are wonderful to read, easy to love and fun to cheer for. She’s created an incredibly unique world that sucks me in each time I pick up a new title. I enjoyed this installment and am really looking forward to September 27th when The Darkest Surrender hits stores.
Date published: 2011-04-08
Rated 5 out of 5 by from this series rocks!!! This is a great book! This series is wonderful, something you can go back and start from the first book over and over
Date published: 2011-04-08

Read from the Book

Strider, keeper of the demon of Defeat, burst through the towering front doors of the Budapest fortress he shared with a growing cast of friends—brothers and sisters by circumstance rather than blood, but all the closer for it—fighting a rush of undeniable pleasure.He'd freaking done it, man. Done. It. After chasing his enemy cross-continent, bargaining away one of the four godly relics needed to find and destroy Pandora's box—and yeah, he was gonna get spanked hard for that—then, after being eaten alive by insects and at one point (cough) walking into a chick's knife (cough), he'd finally won. And damn if he wasn't ready to celebrate."I'm king of the world, bitches. Come in here and bask in my glory." His voice echoed through the foyer, expectant, eager.No one returned the greeting.Still. Grinning, he shifted the unconscious female draped over his shoulder into a more comfortable position. More comfortable for him. She was the enemy he'd been chasing, as well as the chick who'd oh, so impolitely introduced his pancreas to the freaking hilt of her blade. He could hardly wait to tell everyone that he'd done what they hadn't. He'd bagged and tagged her, baby.He called, "Daddy's home. Somebody? Anybody?"Again, there was no response. His grin dulled a bit.Damn it. When he lost a single challenge, he battled crippling pain for days. When he won, thoughgods, it was almost a sexual high, energy buzzing in his veins, heating him, priming him. That kind of enthusiasm called for a playmate. And, hell, twelve warriors and their menagerie of female companions lived here, yet no one had waited around to welcome him home? Even though the grounds were now gated, monitored, and someone had had to punch him in, like, five minutes ago? Didn't that just figure.But he deserved it, he supposed. Seven days had passed since he'd last texted or phoned. Technically, though, that wasn't his fault. He'd been a wee bit preoccupied, what with subduing his bundle of anything but joy. And on his last update, he'd been told the danger here had passed and everyone could return, so he'd stopped the I-have-to-know-how-everyone's-doing flurry of calls.So, fine. No biggie. The fact that no one wanted to play actually did him a solid. Now he could take care of a little business. "Thanks, guys. You're the best. Really." And you can all suck it!Strider surged forward. To console himself, he imagined his prisoner's expression when she woke up and found herself trapped in a four-by-four cage. Now that's the good stuff. Then his gaze snagged on his unfamiliar surroundings, and the last vestiges of his grin fell away. He stopped abruptly.He'd been gone only a few weeks, and he'd thought most of the others had, too, but in that time someone had managed to turn the rundown monstrosity they called home into a showpiece. Once comprised of crumbling stone and mortar, the floor was now brilliant white marble veined with amber. Equally deteriorated walls were now vividly polished rosewood.Before, the winding staircase had been cracked; now it gleamed, not a flaw in sight, an unblemished gold railing climbing to the top. In the corner, a white velvet-lined chair was pushed against reflective paneling, and beyond that, priceless artifacts—colorful vases, bejeweled trinket boxes, and aged spearheads—were perched behind glass cases.None of which had been there before.All these changes, in less than a month? Seemed impossible, even with Titan gods popping in and out at will. Maybe because those gods were more concerned with murder and mayhem than interior decorating. But maybemaybe while Strider had been congratulating himself on a job well done, he'd entered the wrong house? It had happened before.And talk about awkward. There was no way to explain the cut, bruised and soot-covered baggage he was hauling around. Not without a little jail time. Explaining the blood splatter on his clothing would be a real treat, too.Nah, he decided a second later. This was the right place. Had to be. Along the staircase wall hung a portrait of Sabin, keeper of Doubt. Naked. Only one person had the balls to taunt badass Sabin with something like that. Anya, goddess of Anarchy and dealer of disorder, who just happened to be engaged to Lucien, keeper of Death. Odd pair, if you asked Strider, but no one had, so he'd kept the opinion to himself. Besides, better silence than the loss of a favorite appendage. Anya didn't take kindly to anyone second-guessing her. About anything."Yo, Tor Tor," he shouted now.Torin, the keeper of the demon of Disease. Dude never left the fortress. He was always here, monitoring camera feed, ensuring the home remained invasion-free, as well as playing on his computers and making their miniature, by-invitation-only army a shitload of cha-ching.At first, there was no reply, only another echo of his voice, and Strider began to worry. Had something catastrophic happened? A total demon wipeout? If so, why was he still here? Or had Kane, keeper of All Kinds of Bad Shit, had a crappy week and—Footsteps pounded, closer and closer, and relief flooded him. He looked up the staircase, and there was Torin, standing on a zebra-print rug Strider also didn't recall seeing before, his white hair shagging around his devil's face, his green eyes bright as emeralds. He wore black from neck to toe, his hands covered by soft leather gloves. Fashion-wise, those gloves were overkill. To save mankind, though, they were kinda necessary."Welcome home," Torin said, adding, "You shithead.""Nice greeting.""You don't call, you don't write, and you want hearts and flowers?""Yeah, I do.""Figures."A single touch of Torin's skin against another's, and hello plague. Guy's demon pumped some kind of disease in his veins, that single touch all that was needed to spread it. Even to Strider. But immortal as he was, Strider wouldn't die from a little cough/fever/vomiting of blood. Not like humans, who would be ravaged, perhaps worldwide, the infection becoming nearly unstoppable. Strider would give the illness to everyone he touched in turn, though, and as he moderately enjoyed seducing humans, he relied on skin-to-skin action."So, everything good here?" Strider asked. "Everyone fine?""Now you want to know?""Yeah.""Figures. Well, for the most part, alls well. A lot of the guys are out hiding artifacts, and looking for the last one. Those who aren't are hunting Galen." Torin took the stairs two at a time and stopped at the bottom, remaining out of striking distance. As always. His gaze flicked to the female, and amusement expanded his pupils, hiding whatever emotion had been banked there before. "So you're the next of us to fall in love, huh? Sucker! I thought you'd have more sense.""Please. I want nothing to do with this raging bitch." A lie. During their seemingly eternal trek, he'd found himself desiring her more and more. And hating himself more and more. She might be sex walking, but she was also death waiting.Too-pretty-to-be-male lips curved in sheer delight. "That's what Maddox said about Ashlyn. What Lucien said about Anya. What Reyes said about Danika. What Sabin—""Okay, okay. I get it." Strider rolled his eyes. "You can shut up now." While he would admit the girl's punked-out style appealed to him, he'd never be dumb enough to try and tap that.He liked his women compliant. And sane.Liar. You like this one. He wished he could blame his demon for that admission, butEven now, simply thinking about her, his body was tensing, readying.Torin crossed his arms over his chest. "So what is she? A human with a supernatural ability? A goddess? A Harpy?"The guys here did have a propensity for choosing females of "myth" and "legend." Females far more powerful than their demons. Ashlyn could hear voices of the past, Anya could start fires with her mind (among other things), Danika could see into heaven and hell, and Sabin's wife, Gwenwell, she had a dark side you saw just before you died. Painfully."My friend, what I've got here is a bonafide Hunter." Strider slapped her ass as if a fly was perched there and he couldn't live another second without smashing it. The action was a reminder that she meant nothing to him. Although why he didn't tell his friend which Hunter she was, when he'd been so excited before, he didn't know. Actually, he did know. Fatigue. Yeah, he was tired, that was all, and didn't want to have to deal with all the praise. Tomorrow, after a nice long rest, he'd spill everything.The girl offered no reaction to his slap, but then, he hadn't expected her to. He'd repeatedly drugged her as he'd dragged her from one corner of the world to the other. From Rome to Greece to New York to LA and finally to Budapest, leading her brethren on a merry chase as they attempted to save her.Something they would never do.We won! his demon laughed.Damn right we did. He shivered in delight."Hunter?" All amusement fled his friend's face, the light dying in his eyes, turning those emeralds into sharp, deadly blades."Afraid so." Hunters. Their greatest enemy. The fanatics who wanted to destroy them. The bastards who considered them evil, beyond redemption, and the scourge of the earth. The assholes who blamed them for all the world's heartache. Best yet, they were the militia Strider was going to send to the hottest depths of hell, one soldier at a time. Or, with grenades, a few hundred at a time. Depended on his mood, he supposed."You should have offed her already," Torin remarked. "Now Sabin will want to talk with her.""Talk" equaled torture in Sabin's mind. "I know he will. That's why she's still alive." She knew things about the gods pulling their strings, and could do things, impossible things, like cause weapons to materialize from thin air. Something only angel warriors could do. Or so he'd thought. Problem was, she wasn't an angel. And not just because she lacked wings. Girl had a temper.Strider wanted to know how much she knew and how she did what she did.More than that, he hadn't been able to do his job—aka dispose of Hunter trash—when he'd been alone with her. Every time he'd tried, he'd looked at her beautiful face and hesitated. The hesitation had given way to desire, and he'd started battling urges to kiss her rather than "off" her.Sabin wouldn't let him get away with that shit. Sabin would ride his ass until he acted. Strider would have no choice but to step up to the plate and knock the ball out of the park. Because.His hands curled into fists. Because this woman, this walking atrocity.His teeth gritted, and his jaw clenched so tightly the ache shot through his temples and straight into his brain. He experienced the same reaction every time he considered what she'd once done. This woman had helped decapitate his friend Baden, once keeper of the demon of Distrust.Strider could never forget or forgive that fact.The savage beheading had taken place thousands of years ago, but the pain inside him was as fresh as if it had happened this morning. Along with his friend, a piece of his own soul had died that day, and as the girl had learned during their trek to this fortress, a good portion of his heart had withered, too.Mercy wasn't something he possessed. Not anymore. Most especially not for her.He thought he'd killed her in vengeance already, all those centuries ago. Recalled the slash of his blade, the crimson tide of her blood, and the metallic stench of death wafting on the air. The sound of her body slamming into rock, her last gurgle of breath. Yet here she was, alive and well and driving him flipping insane.Maybe he had killed her. Maybe she'd been reborn. Or maybe her soul had been stuffed inside another body. Or maybe this chick was more immortal than as he was and had somehow healed after the unhealable beheading. He didn't know, didn't care.All that mattered was that she was Hadiee of Ancient Greece. Well, she called herself Haidee now. From Had-e-ay to Hay-dee. Evidently she'd changed the spelling and pronunciation for "modernization." Not that he gave a shit. He called her Ex, short for Demon Executioner, and that was that.The proof of her crimes rested in her eyes. Those wintry, callous gray eyes. In the pride that dripped from her voice every time she spoke of that fateful night—I just loved the way his head rolled. Didn't you?—and the stark tattoos etched into her back. Tattoos that kept score. Haidee 1. Lords 4.She deserved everything he and Sabin would do to her."I'm taking her to the dungeon," he said, and he'd never heard such a combination of relish and regret in his own voice before. Once again he started forward, throwing over his shoulder, "If you'd be a sweetheart and let Doubty-Poo know.""No can do, Stridey-man. There's, uh, something you gotta see." A blast of fear mixed with dread and grim expectation accompanied the words.Strider halted, one foot raised mid-air. He straightened, still-sleeping baggage nearly sliding to the ground. Slowly he turned, adjusting Ex, and faced Torin, his own sense of dread sprouting as he spied his friend's now pallid skin. White dusted with tiny rivers of blue. "You said everything was fine. What's wrong?"Torin shook his head. "No way to explain until you've seen. And I said everything was fine for the most part. Now come on.""The girl—""Bring her. She'll be guarded, you'll see." A wave of Torin's hand, and he was racing up the stairs, taking them two at a time.Dread increasing, Strider followed, Ex bouncing on his shoulder. If she'd been awake, she would have lost her breath, over and over again, grunting from the pain of having her stomach repeatedly slammed into his bone. She also would have fought him with a skill matched by few.Too bad the drugs had been so potent. A good fight would have settled his nerves.What was so important that Torin didn't want him taking a few minutes to lock an abominable Hunter away?His thoughts splintered the moment he hit the landing.All he could do was gape. Angels. So many angels. No wonder the house had been redecorated. Divine intervention and all that. Angels did like them some pretties.They stood along the wall, the only space between them filled by the arch of their wings. White feathers laced with gold, the wings of warriors. Their scents perfumed the air, a collage of orchids, morning dew, chocolate and champagne. They ranged in height, though none were shorter than six foot three, and though they wore girly white robes, their muscle mass rivaled Strider's.Most were male, but all were demon assassins trained to hunt, to destroy, and when warranted, to protect. Since they didn't rush at him, ripping swords of fire from the air, as he knew they were very capable of doing, he assumed they were here for the latter.